


Short Stubs

by Pokypup49



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alphonse interruptions, Arguing, Bar Fight, Cuddles, Daddy Issues, Embarrassing moments, F/M, First Kisses, Fluff, Gracia is awesome, Grilled Cheese, Havoc gets stabbed by tree!, Hawkeye moments with others, Hayate to the rescue, Hughes is a loud mouth, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, Outside Sex, Parental Riza Hawkeye, Parental Roy, Pregancy, Secrets, Shooting Range, Short One Shot, Sleeping Together, Teen Angst, drunk roy, ed with kids, friendships, fumbled sex, guilty feelings, gun games, loving whispers, metal boom rock, pissed off riza, playful, pregnant Winry, sniping, tender moments, yelling match
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-08-02 00:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 40,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16294631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokypup49/pseuds/Pokypup49
Summary: This will be several short stories. They may or may not have sexual mentions. I will post at the top of the story if they do with a warning. They are just moments in time that are recorded. I do take requests.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters. I just use them for my fantasies.

               Grandma Pinako puffed on her pipe as she watched the two young adults in the grass. They were laying in the sun, giggling and laughing as the clouds rolled lazily overhead. Their dog, Den, smiled beside her as he wagged his tail and Pinako nodded. “Yes, Den. It is very wonderful to have him home.” She watched as Edward raised his right arm, the arm that was once replaced by her granddaughter’s fine handiwork but had regained on the Promised Day, to the sky as he pointed out a cloud. The two of them snickered and Winry rolled onto her side so that she was leaning against him, looking at his face. Pinako watched as she poked his nose and they snickered again. Her chest felt full, and Pinako smiled slightly with the warmth that the two brought.

                The old woman always had a liking to Edward. She knew his love for her granddaughter and welcomed him fully into her home when his mother passed. She raised him and his brother. She watched his struggles growing up. “You know, Den,” she whispered to the automailed canine. “He's matured a lot. He’s quite the young man.” She took a long draw from her pipe. “He's so much like his father…”

                She could hear them joking, being young and happy. Their arms were out wide, feeling the cool grass beneath them, as the warm summer breeze teased their hair. Winry was in a summer dress, purple in color, and bright. She wasn’t working today which gave her a well-earned break. Ed wore some shorts that Pinako had made him and a tank top. She was sure that he was enjoying the causality of the moment. And she was honestly surprised that he had worn the shorts. She remembered making his clothing when he and Al were younger and Ed would refuse to wear it for some time. He always wanted to be so independent, Pinako had to trick him into things.

                Winry’s hand rested on Ed’s chest as she laughed. Maybe the two young adults didn’t think anything of it, but the grandmother knew what gestures like that meant. She knew what was going on between them. And she didn’t seem bothered by it at all. She’d seen her own son grow up and get married, have a child. _It seems that I’m raising everyone_ , she thought happily to herself. _I always wanted a house full of children_ … She rubbed her chin with a joyful expression. _Put that boy to work and have him make an addition to the house!_ She snickered at the thought.

                Den sat down as the old lady puffed happily on her pipe. “They deserve each other,” she commented quietly. She looked down at the dog and smiled. “We haven’t heard laughter like that in alone time, huh Boy?”

                He barked and smiled.

                Winry laughed and rolled back to look up at the sky. “You’re so funny,” she held her belly.

                “You know it’s true,” Ed laughed in his argument.

                And deep in her aged heart, she wished that Ed’s mother was there to see him grow and to see him happy. It was more then him saving the world, being the youngest State Alchemist, and traveling all over the world. It was that happiness, true happiness, seemed to elude Edward. _Trish, I know you can see him. I know you are proud of him. I just wish he knew you were_.

                Pinako watched as he jumped into a sitting position and rolled over her granddaughter. His long bangs covered his face. She chuckled and patted her thigh. “Come on, Den.” She called to the dog. “I think it’s time for them to be left alone.”

                Den barked again and followed Pinako happily, but not before looking back at the two laughing in the grass. There they kissed, held each other, and embraced the moment. Winry’s fingers danced along his ribs, causing Edward to fall over and attempt to defend himself, but to no avail. “Let me free,” he laughed. Pinako could hear them through the open window. She snickered again. Yes. Yes, he did love her. Because it wasn’t like a man who could knock his father in the face with such force to allow himself to be overtaken by a girl, even if that girl was Winry.


	2. Under the Covers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean Havoc is given the task of getting Colonel up and to an important crime scene. He gets into his house and immediately thinks foul play. There was play, but not what Jean expected!

                Havoc knocked on the door, looking around nervously. He listened, wondering why it was taking Roy so long to answer to the door. He knocked again, this time a little harder, and listened. He couldn’t even hear walking or talking. “Shit,” he muttered. He debated for a moment. He could kick down the Colonel’s door, or he could go back to the office. Maybe they’d gotten ahold of him between the time Havoc was sent to his door, and he was already heading to the site. Havoc frowned. They needed to get to the crime scene soon and track down the murderer, and their fearless leader was nowhere to be found. “Riza’s going to kill me if he doesn’t get there,” he muttered again. “She leaves me in charge while she’s on freaking vacation, and I can’t even find him!” He looked at the door anxiously, still hoping that it’s open.

                Jean Havoc ran his hand through his hair as he debated what to do next. It was almost four in the damn morning. They’d been trying to get ahold of Mustang since one in the morning after a call came in about the murder of a General’s wife. It wasn’t funny business! This was urgent. The commanding officer who went and grabbed him and Fuery from the bar had made them start waking people up, and Colonel Mustang was the first to find. Havoc studied the door again. “What if,” he wondered to himself. He felt the door nob and it gave way. “It’s open?” He pushed the door open quietly. That was completely unlike Colonel.

                As Havoc poked his head in, he strained to see in the dark room. By the door was his jacket, and his boots were by the door… He blinked a few times seeing another pair of shoes by the door but dismissed it when he looked up to see the phone on the desk off its hook. The chair to the desk by the window was tipped over, and papers littered the floor. Havoc pulled his service pistol from its holster and armed himself in the ready position. “Colonel?” He whispered in the dark. There was no response. He looked into the kitchen to see there were dishes in the sink. That was unlike Colonel too. He frowned. _Something happened here._ He turned and went back into the living room, noting the dent in the wall, and the lamp that had fallen over. _A struggle_ , he thought curiously in mild fear.

                Havoc looked around once more before walking softly down the hallway to the bedroom. _Please_ , he begged, _please no dead Colonel_ … He peeked into the bedroom and saw two bodies under the blankets. He stopped, blinking in the dim light to make sure that was what he was seeing. _Oh_ , he thought sheepishly as he grinned. _Colonel had a lady friend over!_   He chuckled to himself as he holstered his weapon and walked carefully over to his boss. _It must have been some night_ , he joked as he thought about the mess in the living room. Then he leaned over, still fearful of the result of waking Mustang this early in the morning. Havoc, after all, had broken into his home and is now standing at his bedside looking at the two of the sleep. The colonel may not be happy about that.

                The “lady friend” was curled up in the blankets, the rim of the thick comforter pulled all the way up to her nose, and her face was half buried in the soft pillow. Her golden hair was messed up and in an array. They were laying on their sides, spooning, with Mustang holding her from behind in a gentle hold. They snoozed quietly, completely unaware of their intruder. _It must have a been a damn good night,_ Havoc concluded. Havoc put his hand on Mustang’s shoulder and shook it softly. “Sir,” he said. “Sir, I’m sorry to wake you.”

                Roy blinked a few times and rolling over to see who was behind him. “Havoc,” he asked in a whisper.

                “I’m sorry, Colonel. The door was open.” Havoc smiled apologetically. “But General Welshstien’s wife was murdered last night. You need to get up. We are assigned to the task.”

                The woman next to him stirred, but Roy put his hand on her to stop her from waking. He then turned back to Havoc. “Okay,” He yawned. “Let me get up here. They better have coffee ready.” He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked around. “Have you seen my underwear?”

                “Somehow,” Havoc waved away, seeing his Colonel stand up naked. “This is not my job.” He quietly slipped out of the room and back out into the living room.           

                Roy slipped on his boxers, then pulling on yesterday’s pants, yawning again as he focused himself on waking. He slipped a shirt on and checked his pockets to make sure he had everything before leaving. As he headed towards the door, he stopped, turned around and returned to the bedside. He leaned over, kissing the temple of the sleeping beauty that was curled up under his covers. “Breakfast is on me,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry for having to go to work.”

                A satisfied hum answered him as she curled tighter in his covers.

                “Thank you for last night.”

                “Thank you,” she yawned.

                He kissed her head again and stepped out of the room, buttoning up his uniform as he met Havoc in the living room.

                “Who’s the lovely girl,” Havoc had to joke as they walked down the apartment stairs to the waiting car outside.

                “None of your business,” Roy ordered. “You should be concerned with entering my home without permission.”

                “The door was unlocked!” Havoc quickly tried to explain. “I had orders, Sir!”

                Roy waved his hand, dismissing Havoc’s excuse. He stopped as he got in the car. “Did you get ahold of Lieutenant Hawkeye yet?” Well, it was a good cover. He couldn’t act like he knew she was under his covers at home.

                “No,” Havoc shook his head. “Do you want us to go to her place?”

                Roy shook his head. “She’s on leave. I’m sure she’s not even at home.” He shut the door, looking up at the apartment building. _Not in her home_ , he snickered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write, the more and more I fall in love with Roy and Riza. And I'm starting to like the idea of playing with Jean Havoc a bit more.


	3. Stay In bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A study of sleeping positions.  
> Ed & Winry

                It was raining outside. Waves of heavy droplets pelted the side of the house relentlessly. The sun hid behind the dark clouds and loomed lowly over the green fields of Resembool. The window in the room failed to resist the cold wind as it blew against it. Cold air seeped into the room, chilling the inhabitants who pulled the thick comforter ever closer. The rest of the house moved below them, tinkerings and banging of pots were easily heard.

               The two cuddled under the covers resisted all calls to join the awakened family. Instead, they held close to each other and slept away the morning. They laid easily on their sides, facing each other. Her face was buried in his chest, her forehead resting against his sternum. Her hand slipped up and under their pillows, curling back under her head, but her other arm rested under the blanket on his bare waist. Her long golden hair flowed elegantly behind her along her back. She exhaled with a content hum, warm and happy. Her legs hugged his closely, intertwining, tangling, with his. They fit together like long lost puzzle pieces as if their souls were magnetically attracted to each other. It was a natural fit. There was no proof, or evidence needed to know that God himself didn’t create them for each other. Her long-sleeved shirt fit closely around her, but his fingers found their way under. He was conscious enough to trace little spirals on her side, right above her hip, relishing the feel of her under his fingers. The feeling was more fulfilling and satisfying than any food could fill him. He had her wrapped closely to him, his chin resting just above her head. His long hair was more ruffled than hers as it lay on the pillow and the blanket, maybe masking their inner personalities very well.

                Below them in the kitchen, the old woman looked out at the dark clouds, puffing her pipe. The other young man in her home beat his eggs for breakfast and chatted happily with her. And as thunder roared in the distance, no one but the black and white dog at the old lady’s feet seemed to notice.

                “We should get up,” he whispered into her hair.

                “That’s different of you,” she whispered back.

                He hummed his acknowledgment and pulled her closer to him still. “If only alchemy could stop time…”

                She giggled in his chest, kissing it before looking up. “As if it’d do you any good.”

                He snorted and yawned. He could feel the draft threatening against a bare spot on his back, and he shuffled the blanket higher to protect himself from it.

                “Ed! Ed! Wake up!”

                He moaned, pulling the blanket now over their heads. “Shhh,” he whispered. “We’re not here.”

                The door to their cold room swung open. “Brother! I made omelets!”

                “There are no brothers here,” Ed growled under the blanket. “Go away.”

                Alphonse’s hands grabbed the end of the thick comforter, pulling rapidly to expose the two to the harsh environment that they’d been hiding from. “Edward!” He couldn’t tell who was more embarrassed, his brother or Winry.

                “Get out,” Ed yelled in retaliation, throwing a pillow at him.

                “I’m telling Granny,” Al threatened as he headed out the door. They could hear his feet run eagerly down the wood-floored hall and to the stairs.

                Ed pulled Winry from him, looking gently into her eyes. “You know what I must do.”

                She nodded slowly. “Can you at least put the blanket back on me?”

                Ed tenderly untangled himself from their connection, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He picked up the blanket and tossed it back over Winry, who responded graciously with another satisfied hum. Then he ran down the hall, quite late, after his brother. _It’s so good to have them home_ , she smiled as she snuggled into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously had this idea in my head for weeks. I finally got a moment to write it down! Personal story time! My friend and I were talking and she mentioned how her sister and her husband were napping partners to begin with. I said, "Really? Me too!" My husband actually taught me to nap. (Yes, I was a nonsleeper as a child.) So, after a day of thinking about it, I realized that being together, sleeping is our favorite time. So, how cute would it be with Ed and Winry!? Of course, Alphonse would just have to ruin it for them. Haha! I know it's short, but it's supposed to just be a moment in time. What do you think?


	4. The Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza and Roy trade keys to each other's apartments... Roy gets drunk... Dun Dun Dun!
> 
> Read a prompt on Tumblr. I'm sorry, I can't find the person of promptage. If you prompted a fic dealing with switching keys to apartments, please let me know, I'd like to give you the credit. *cough* Dedicate *cough*

                Their relationship had been kept secret for the most part. They enjoyed the peacefulness of each other’s company and the rush and excitement of their prohibited intimacy. They bounced back and forth, visiting each other when they knew it was safe. It had become a commune place, each apartment.  Sometimes they’d just exist, sit and live alongside each other, not really doing anything but enjoying living. It was becoming too normal, too routine. It was only an amount of time till complacently got the best of them and they’d be discovered.

                It was very late, or very early depending on the perspective, but nonetheless, Riza Hawkeye was asleep. She had a full day of work ahead of her. Roy Mustang, on the other hand, had decided to go out and spend the night drinking with his troops.  She warned him that he was still expected to be at work the next day, and he jokingly reminded her that he was the boss.

                “You guys are too much,” Roy waved his hand in front of him as a couple of his men had joined in song. The music in the pub grew louder with the chorus of voices. Glasses rose into the air and whiskey and beer spilled over the sides. He laughed as he watched, happy on his stool at the bar. He was honestly holding himself upright by the bar, and he feared standing up.

                “Colonel,” Havoc called from across the room. “Colonel! Show these ladies your trick!”

                Roy grinned. It was an old trick that he and Havoc had toned. Though they both had failed to acknowledge their intoxication this late at night. Roy got out an ignition glove, sliding it on with a wide grin. “Okay, ladies,” he slurred. “Nice to meet, you, I’m the Flame Alchemist.” With the introduction, Roy snapped his finger, igniting the air. A sloppy and zig-zagged orange line rippled through the air as it reached Havoc who stood, leaned against the other bar end. The end of his new cigarette lit up with a small flame and then died. Havoc laughed, drawing in a puff and blowing it out.

                “See that ladies?”

                The girls giggled, and Roy laughed at their reaction to his bar trick. A private next to him waved down the bartender and he watched as he tried to take six beers back to his group of rowdy soldiers. Breda had Fuery in a headlock and Fuery was beating on him helplessly. One by one, Roy watched everyone leave. He sipped his whiskey and joked with Havoc some, talking up the ladies when they came by, but did not really leave his stool.

                “You doing okay,” Havoc asked as he leaned against the bar next to his Colonel.

                Roy smirked. “I don’t know about leaving,” he answered honestly. “The room is starting to spin.”

                Havoc laughed over the singing. “Shit, Colonel! I’m past that!”

                Roy rubbed his face as he looked at the door. “I have to be up in five hours to conduct an inspection.”

                Havoc responded with a boyish laugh, holding his belly. There was no sympathy for him. “Well,” he hiccupped. “If you hold me up, I’ll hold you up. But I’m crashing on your couch.”

                Roy laughed. “Deal.” He slipped of the stool, instantly reaching out to find Havoc’s shoulder. “Oh, man,” he chuckled. “This is going to be quite the journey.”              

                His blonde companion leaned the other way, holding onto his superior. “Just don’t fall over,” he slurred.

                Step by step they made their way down the sidewalk. Roy leads them on their way, neither paying much attention to the direction they were heading. “Oh, man,” Havoc drooled as they passed a bakery. The wafting aroma of fresh bread being baked filled the streets. “You better have food.”

                Roy grinned. “Oh yes,” he stammered. “Why wouldn’t I have food?”

                “I know you,” Havoc waved his finger at Roy. “You never have food at your apartment.”

                He waved his hand in his friends face as he tried to stay upright. “Of course, I have food,” he argued.

                As they entered the building, neither Roy or Havoc even noticed they were in the wrong building. Havoc blindly, and drunkenly followed his leader. He continued to slur and blunder about how big of a sandwich he was going to eat when they got in while Roy merely grumbled about the stairs. Roy fumbled with the keys on his keychain as he got to the door, failing to open it right away and trying the other key.

                “Hey Chief,” Havoc snickered. “You’re too drunk to even get in!”

                The door swung open and they stumbled in. Havoc instantly wandered towards the fridge and opened it. Neither seemed to see the little black and white dog that greeted them at the door, wagging his tail at Roy. “Damn, Colonel,” he muttered. “Health food? Look at these veggies!”

                Roy ignored him, and he sat down at the table and tried to recognize where he was. He thought he saw Black Hayate go into the bedroom and he squinted with a thought that maybe he wasn’t hallucinating. This wasn’t his apartment. They both stopped when they heard a click behind them. Roy turned slowly in his seat. “Lieutenant?”

                Riza lowered her pistol as she looked at Havoc who lifted his head from the fridge with a chunk of ham sticking out of his mouth. “Riza,” he grumbled. “What are you doing in Mustang’s… I didn’t walk in on something I shouldn’t have, did I?”

                Riza turned her glare to Roy who blinked from his chair. About a month ago, they’d been frequenting each other’s apartment so often, they gave each other keys. They came and went, not even thinking of who’s home was who’s anymore. Roy jumped between the two every day! He looked down at his hand. No wonder my key didn’t work… He then looked back at Riza who was still expecting an explanation. “Sorry, we were out drinking.”

                “I know you have been, Colonel,” she growled lowly, careful not to say his name but to call him by his title. “I could smell you when you came in.”

                “How …” Havoc pointed to the two. “You had a key…”

                Roy glared at his friend.

                Havoc didn’t say another word but instead put his head back in the fridge.

                “Not that drunk,” Riza snarked. She rubbed her face with a heavy sigh and turned back around. “No puking,” she ordered and went back into the bedroom.

                “But,” Roy looked at the couch. “There’s only one couch,” he whined, slurring his words still.

                Havoc burped and put his hand over his mouth. “No what?” Before Roy could clarify the homeowner’s order, Havoc rushed to the sink where he hurled his drinks and little food he had eaten.

                “Damn it,” Roy grumped.

                “I’m not helping you,” Riza called. “You’re grown ass men. I’ve got to be to work in 4 hours. You too, Colonel.”

                Havoc continued to heave in the sink a few more times before the two men tried to squeeze on the couch. They put their heads on opposite ends, with their legs haphazardly over each other. Maybe it was their intoxicated state, but neither seemed to care. To add insult to injury, Hayate jumped up and laid on Roy’s chest. When Riza got up and got dressed, walking out of her room, she smirked at the scene on her couch. Her kitchen was a mess now, and it stunk horribly thanks to Havoc. Havoc was snoring loudly, his head leaning back against the armrest, while Roy’s was tilted to the side, drool leaking out. One of Roy’s arms hung from the couch, touching the floor, while the other was folded nicely on his chest. Havoc’s arms, however, were behind his head, and she guessed he’d be rightfully sore from sleeping like that. She started a cup of coffee before going over and waking them.

                “Colonel,” she nudged him. “Better wake up.”

                “Fuck it,” Havoc whined. “I’m staying here. The room is still spinning.”

                “Jean Havoc,” Riza warned. “You puke on my couch and you’ll become fertilizer for my Ficus tree.”

                She watched as he stiffened and rubbed his nose, but he didn’t rebut her.

                Roy groaned and held his head. “Not so loud, Hawkeye,” he whined.

                Riza, of course, had little sympathy for her commanding officer. She nudged him again. “Get up.”

                Roy waved at her, a weak defense to get her away from him. He heard her walk away and he sighed as he thought about ten more minutes of sleep. He felt Hayate jump off of him and he adjusted himself a little better. He snapped his mouth as he felt it dry and tried to remoisturized it when he felt a surge of cold come over him. Roy sat up and coughed, trying to eject the water that rushed into his lungs. “Hawkeye,” he exclaimed.

                “Good,” she said calmly, holding a cup in her hand. “You’re up.”

                His hair stuck to the sides of his head as he glared at her. “That was mean,” he muttered, detangling himself from the limbs that were Havoc's. Havoc didn’t move. He wasn’t wet, and he didn’t feel an impending threat, so he continued to sleep off his alcohol poisoning.

                “It will save you the shower you need.” Riza put dog food in Hayate’s bowl. “When Hayate and I get back, we’re going.” The front door shut and Roy was left standing by the sofa, rubbing his face.

                “It’s like you two are married,” Havoc commented from his position.

                “Yeah,” he grumbled back. “Except I think that if we were married, she wouldn’t have let me in the house after last night.”

                His blonde friend chuckled. Roy did his best to be ready for the day. He thankfully had stored a uniform at work, so he knew he could shower and get dressed once there. When Riza came back, she shuffled around, grabbing a few more items before hustling him out the door.

                “Oh,” she stopped herself and went to reopen the door.

                “What?”

                “Shouldn’t we tell Havoc…”

                Roy cut her off. “He’s not going to say anything.”

                She debated for a second and then turned. “Come on,” she said as she leads him out. “Oh, and I want my key back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So there was a prompt on Tumblr a week or so ago about switching keys to apartments. I have no idea who's page I read it from. I'd like to know! Give proper credit and all that. Also, my husband who came up with the bar trick.... 
> 
> How did everyone like it? Let me know! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Warm night, silk sheets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another cuddling one, but with Al and Mei. Enjoy the sweetness.

                A silver silk sheet covered their nude bodies, sticking to the sweat that beaded on his lightly haired chest. The air was warm, even for the night. The wooden paneled doors were open, allowing a little bit of a breeze to waft through, however, Alphonse could easily argue that it was a warm breeze to begin with. Her head rested perfectly over his heart, her hand resting on his chest. Her other hand was wedged up into the pillows as she snuggled to press their humid bodies together. The mattress pad that they had collapsed on, settled on the floor, wicked up the moisture from his back. His one arm wrapped around Mei, pulling her close. Al closed his eyes, listening to her breathe, matching her rhythm. His other hand tucked behind his head.

                Mei could hear his heartbeat, slowing down, ready for slumber. It was a comfort to her more than he’d know. Once without a body and a heart, she relished the feeling of his warmth and his heartbeat was a gentle lullaby to her. She lifted her leg to rest on his, getting just centimeters closer, but it brought her more peace. She didn’t want him to go. She’d argue their departure from the bed instantly, despite the reason that they were not yet married. Her fingers drifted up his sternum, back down to his navel, before she kissed his chest, and snuggled back into him.

                Al took a deep breath, debated kicking off the silk sheet, and exhaled. He drifted his fingers up and down her back a few times, the most that his wrist would allow, before closing his own eyes. “I love you,” he whispered into the darkness. He squeezed her to him one last time before allowing his mind to settle, allowing him to rest. He had no intentions of going to his own room. Instead, he decided that they’d remain in one room, together, from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was way too short, even for my liking. But I wasn't trying to write a story, just a moment in time, and moments are too short. How did you like it? 
> 
> Have a good one!


	6. He cares, just shows it differently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Roy get in a yelling match. Riza steps in to comfort Ed the way she can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so much fluff here. More anger and grouchy-ness. I apologize ahead of time, but you have been warned.

Edward stood in front of his superior’s desk, his arms crossed with fiery eyes as they argued. This was typical of their engagements. This time, it was ridiculous, for both of them. Ed wanted to do something, while Mustang told him no. Frankly, it made Ed feel more like a child, being told no. It had quickly turned into a battle of egos, and Ed was on the wrong side, making him more defensive and angry. 

                “I’m telling you,” Colonel Mustang argued, “I don’t want you anywhere near there. I’m ordering you not to go.”

                “I want to go!”

                “No. No arguments.” Roy's voice was level, laced with annoyance. It was the matter of fact that he was telling Ed no, and Ed was arguing with him. It wasn't what he was used to, and it annoyed him that Ed had chosen this argument over others. 

                Ed gritted his teeth. “This may be the lead we are looking for! And you’re going to tell me no?”

                “It’s dangerous there,” Colonel raised his voice. “I’m being deployed there to oversee the action! I don’t want you there!” He looked up, frowning at the red-faced, blonde haired boy. Edward was looking more childish every minute he was there, just short of pouting.

                “Screw you! I’m going to go!” But Ed didn't want to be taken so lightly. He and Al had been working hard for the past month and knew there was information in the small southern town, the one that was on the brink of rebellion before action by the military was called for. And Ed honestly couldn't understand how Mustang could reason that he could go, but Ed could not. 

                “Fullmetal!” Ed flinched as he watched Mustang snap. 

                “What,” Ed yelled, trying not to let his fear of the outburst show. “You can’t talk to me like a child! You treat everyone around here like your little underlings! I’m tired of it! You know what I’m here for! And it’s there! I know it is!” He yelled loud enough that the others outside the room could hear him.

                “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want! I’m telling you no! As your commanding officer-“

                “What? You’re going to order me around?” Ed cut him off.

                Hawkeye looked at Ed with sorrow. He was acting like a child, and it was driving Colonel Mustang to the limit of his composure. She'd only seen him this out of character a few times; once after Hughes' death, and another time when he felt she was in danger while on a mission. Mustang was known for being soft-spoken, controlled, and level-headed. “Edward,” she tried to warn but it landed on deaf ears.

                “I swear to God, Edward. If I find you out there, I will order you here to Central as my paper delivery boy!” Mustang threw his pen down and crossed his arms. "There is no discussion here." 

                “So,” Ed waved his arms in the air. “You get to go, but I have to go play house in Resembool?”

                “I’m ordering you to go get your automail maintained.” Roy’s voice lowered, and he leaned back in his chair, attempting to gain his lost cool.

                “You can’t just order me around.” Ed stepped forward, slamming his fist on the desk. “You’re not going to just tell me what to do!”

                Lieutenant Hawkeye gasped and stepped forward to stop Roy from walking around his desk but stopped short and Mustang didn't stop, pushing past her. He stepped loudly from behind the desk, taking large strides before he grabbed Edward by his shirt and hoisting him up to his eye-level. Ed grumped at his actions. “Listen here,” he growled lowly. “I’m your fucking commanding officer. The only reason why you are alive, the only reason why you are even here is because I allow you to be.” He shook Ed’s shirt. “You hear me, you little punk?”

                Ed growled lowly, from deep in his throat. Now he was feeling bullied. He was being physically attacked. His eyes burned deep into Colonel’s. On top of it, he knew what Mustang was threatening him with and it was a low blow.

                “Listen to him, Edward,” Hawkeye begged from her spot, reaching out with a hand. She wanted to intervene, even feeling that Mustang was going a bit too far with Edward. But Hawkeye knew that stepping in could result in Mustang getting more worked up. She was supposed to side with him always, without question. Although she knew Ed was being a little shit, Mustang had gone a bit too far by grabbing him. 

                Ed glanced over at her and back at the Colonel. “You’re a fucking asshole,” he growled. “I’ll never forget this.”

                “I don’t expect you to,” Roy instantly replied. "You're lucky I don't court marshall your ass for insubordination." Mustang knew he wouldn't do that, but he was trying to make Ed see his point of being lenient on the boy. He threw Ed down onto the ground, watching him lose balance and fall on his ass. “Get the fuck out of my office.” He turned sharply and walked back to his seat. Ed could see Mustang was fuming. This was a side of his superior that he didn't normally see. He knew how to get under his skin, and Mustang would tease him, but this was rage. Ed was livid that he was on the brunt end of Roy's bad day. It wasn't fair. 

                Ed held back the tears, growling at Colonel’s action. He stood up, turning sharply to leave.

                “Edward,” Mustang called, choosing to ignore his title. “You salute your commanding officer when you leave his office.”

                It was the last straw. He was reminding Ed of his position, of his lower rank, and of Colonel’s power trip. Ed turned back, holding back every insult in the book. He raised his hand to his forehead in a sharp salute. Mustang saluted back, still hard faced and angry.

                “Lieutenant,” Mustang turned to Hawkeye. “Escort Fullmetal out.”

                “Yes, Sir.”

                Ed threw open the doors and marched out. He could feel the gazes of the gang but refused to look back at them. He didn’t want the looks of pity, disappointment, or sympathy from them. He just wanted to leave. If his silver pocket watch didn’t come with so many benefits and availability of knowledge, he’d throw it right at Colonel Mustang’s face and tell him to find another fucking puppet.

                He could feel Lieutenant Hawkeye walking behind him. Her presence was softer, but looming over him. It was like he was given a damn babysitter. “You don’t need to follow me. I know my way out.”

                “Maybe it’s not for you,” she answered softly.

                Edward thought about the answer as he stomped down the hall. He wished he understood how she was so even spoken, calm, quiet, and soothing. She was a source of reason to him. Why Mustang couldn't be like her, he'd never know. 

                “You will learn to trust him. He really does care." 

                Ed grumped loudly at that comment.

                "He does everything for a reason, but he expects you to trust his judgment."

                 His fists balled up tightly swung violently down the halls. He didn't feel that Mustang deserved any of his trust, not if he couldn't explain himself to Ed. He didn't feel that his loyalty should be so blind. He turned to exit, throwing the door open with unnecessary force.

                “Edward,” she said gently, grabbing his arm.

                “No, Lieutenant!” Ed turned and shouted at her. A guard at the door stepped forward but she raised her hand to stop the interjection. “He has no right to physically attack me! He has no right to sit there and boss me around like a child! That’s all he sees me as and has absolutely no fucking respect for me!”

                Riza frowned and sighed heavily. “Hughes’ death is hard for even him to deal with.” She started walking ahead of him, her arms clasped behind her back as she walked. “He cares so deeply about you, he’s sparing you the experience of war.” If it was an explanation that Edward wanted, then she'd try to give it to him. 

                Ed watched her for a second, then followed behind her, crossing his arms. “I’ve been through enough. He should trust me.”

                “He does,” she argued gently, walking across the courtyard. “More than you will ever know. He thinks very highly of you.”

                “He doesn’t have to talk to me like that,” he growled, sulking, looking down at his feet as he stepped behind her. He kicked a rock in angst.

                The lieutenant stopped, looking down at him and nodded. “I agree.”

                Ed stopped, looking surprised that she readily agreed that Colonel had acted out and was in the wrong. He turned his head, looking away towards the high walls. He couldn't continue to lash out his anger at her, she wasn't reciprocating the same anger towards him. He needed to think it over, be reasonable. If she was going to talk to him like an adult, maybe it was time for him to act like one. They stood silently for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “Does he talk to you like that?”

                Hawkeye bit her lip and took a deep breath. “He keeps his composure. Unless we are second-guessing his orders. What he’s trying to accomplish…” She trailed off looking around. “He can’t trust anyone.”

                Ed didn’t understand what she was getting at. What did that bastard need trust for? He was a scummy officer that was a bossy baby. “So, let me guess,” he replied with an attitude of a 14-year-old. “You want me to go back and apologize?”

                Hawkeye shrugged. “No.” She looked towards the exit. “But maybe next time don’t start a yelling match because you feel like a child.”

                “He treats me like a child,” Ed yelled.

                “You are a child,” she corrected sharply. “We all care about you. There are things in the south that are happening that you don’t need to see yet. If we find anything relating to the Philosopher’s Stone, I personally will bring you back all we find.”

                He scoffed. “Fine.” He started walking, waving behind him.

                “Be careful,” she called to his back. “Don’t forget to turn in your monthly report next month.”

                “Yeah, yeah,” he called behind him. He had enough to think about. He didn't need to be lectured by her any longer.

                Lieutenant Hawkeye watched him leave, feeling back for him. She was never understood at his age either, but she didn’t have a comforting parent figure either. She had a father who was mentally abusive and never there for her. She loved the kid, and if she could give him anything, it’d be the parent figure she wished she had. She turned and walked back inside, determined to give Colonel a piece of her mind on grabbing Ed like that. Though she was worked up, her posture and step did not give it away. She opened the door to Mustang’s office and walked quietly to his desk.

                “Colonel,” she said softly, bending down to his desk as he scribbled his signature on orders to head south for a couple of days.

                “I don’t need a lecture from you, Lieutenant.”

                She put her hand on his wrist. “He’s just a child,” she reminded. “Now isn’t the time to encourage his hatred of you.”

                “Are you forgetting your place also?” It was a cold comment as he pulled his hand from her touch.

                She frowned, standing up and stepping aside behind him. “I know my place,” she said calmly. “Maybe you need a reminder of yours.”         

                Roy turned in an instant, standing up and facing his adjutant. He stared at her calm face for a moment as he fumed.

                "You have an opportunity to be a role model." She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him, acknowledging his angered state.

                “If you feel that I'm not acting as I should, you can shoot me as you please.” It was a whisper, but it was full of rage as his voice was rough from yelling.

                “I will follow to the end of the world,” she whispered her dedication back.

                He puffed at his victory and sat back down. It was quiet for a few moments more before Mustang put down his pen. “I just don’t need to see him hurt,” he muttered.

                “I know, Sir.”  

               

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit different, I know. But, what did you all think? I don't think this is my best work... I was mildly disappointed, but my husband insisted I post it. It came to me in my lack of sleep state and I needed to write it down. I feel that Roy was a bit out of character. THough he does show his frustration, he doesn't lose his cool so easily. Maybe that's how far Ed had pushed him. I really made Roy into an asshole, and I feel bad because I really like him as a character... Anyway... I still appreciate you readers, and I will add some fluff soon. Love all of you. Happy New Year.


	7. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Winry have a tender and intimate moment under the stars. 
> 
> **Sexual mentionings.

                Ed rolled off Winry, pulling the blanket up and over their nude bodies in the cool summer night. Their bodies heaved, their lungs gasping for air, smirks growing as they came down from their high. It seemed to be the norm for them. And since his return, she’d agree that he’d changed quite a bit. He was forward, but he was also gentle and loving. Very loving. So loving. It made her so proud to see his independence as an adult, to have the knowledge of the world and wanting to be more part of it. It amazed her more when his desires were on one thing… her. And it was her. She was his world.

                “Wow,” she breathed, reaching out the touch him. “You know,” she gasped, turning her head to see his chest rise and fall dramatically. “We can’t keep doing this.”

                He laughed out loud as he looked up at the stars. “Do you ever think we will reach those stars?”

                Winry had to roll on her side, tilting her head as she looked at him. Yes, he was a man of dreams, of innovations. However, sometimes she wondered if he was thinking too far ahead, too out there. Maybe he was dreaming in the stars already.

                “You know…” He waved his hand at the sky.

                She shook her head. “I don’t…”

                Ed turned his head to look at her. “I feel that it’s possible when I’m with you.”

                She smiled softly, letting her hand rest easily on his chest. “Edward.”

                “I think that if we ever did reach the stars, it’d be the same heavenly feeling that I get when we are together.”

                Winry let her fingers draw circles on his chest, mindless in their subconscious trails. She had to admire him in more ways than one. And if tonight was the night, she got pregnant, she’d welcome his children with grace and love. There was no one else on earth she’d be more honored to share her life with but him.

                They stayed quiet, listening to the frog croak in a nearby creek, and the crickets sing their lullabies in the tall grass. The feeling was euphoric, unreal as they felt completely disassociated with their surroundings. Ed rolled on his side, curling a stray lock of hair behind her ear as he kissed her nose. He whispered his love to the air, into the night. He promised he’d return, that he’d come back as he always did and that he’d call often. His hand would drift down her sides, feeling her curves, memorizing the shade from the dimly lit moon on her skin. As their lips grazed, slipping against each other, their breaths were caught in their throats. They were afraid to admit time would end their liaisons. No matter how they rolled between the flannel blankets under the summer sky, they’d have to part and return to the illusions of the day. Not that anyone could deny their engagements. Everyone seemed to know. It was the two young adults who were blind to the other’s knowledge of their love.

                She hovered over him, rubbing her nose against his affectionately. Their breath warm on the other’s lips as they tasted each other. His hands held her hips as he grinded against her, listening to her sounds of ecstasy dissipate into the breeze that teased her hair. Only he and the stars would ever know that sound. Only he and the moon could appreciate the smoothness of her backside or the way her hair glistened as his he thrust up into her, waving side to side as he kissed under her chin to her shoulder. The grass around them would hold the only evidence to their bodies colliding in a smooth rhythm, much like two streams merging into one. The ripples that crashed with the rush of the collision shimmered under the dim light and gave depth to the beauty of the two. The ripples were the only evidence to their fusion.

                “There are consequences to this,” she’d breath into his ear as her eyes drifted shut. His arm pulled her tight against him, her head on his bicep as a pillow.

                Ed tucked an arm up and behind his head as he propped his own head up, still looking for an answer to life in the white specks that littered the black mass above. “Yeah,” was all that could escape his lips.

                “Have you thought about that?”

                It should have scared him. He was young, was getting ready to travel! He had other priorities in life! Or did he? If he could be the most unlike his father, since his physical attributions were nearly identical as well as his tones and moods, he’d be more dedicated to his family in his presence. Ed wasn’t afraid. He chuckled lightly, turning to kiss her on her forehead. “Yeah,” he whispered again.

                “Are you okay with that.”

                He nodded, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. “Yeah,” he smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWW!!! I have to say, I love this one. It's not plot-based, or even a story, just a moment captured between the two. They are just too freaking cute. I know its a bit shorter than what I'm usually doing, but sometimes, it's in the short moments that we appreciate the most. What do you think? And as always, thank you for reading!


	8. The Observation of a Sniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breda and Hawkeye are on a mission. Breda is privileged to see Hawkeye do what she does best.

               It’d been a long quiet night. The cold and rain had seeped through the thin shelter that covered them throughout the night. However, their intended target hadn’t shown quite yet. The room stayed dark, with the bodies covered with dirty jackets to help their cover. If someone was to look from outside, they might have even guessed they were dead, frozen in time with their stoned position. However, it wasn’t the case. One was laid out prone, her legs wide, her arms balancing the rifle with ease, letting the tip of the rifle remain flush with the broken-out window that she peered from. Water dripped from the worn roof and ceiling, creating a puddle next to her, the dirt crusted jacket soaking some of it up. The other body sat next to hers. His leg touched her foot as he watched the dark hallway behind them. Every so often, he’d turn quietly, smoothly, and look out the window. Words and conversation were whispered, breathed slowly to avoid the wisps of clouded exhales which would be a clear sign of life. They’d only been there for a few hours with their target still not in sight. It was coming to a point when they’d have to decide to relocate, stay and wait, or forfeit the mission.

                “What do you want to do,” he asked quietly, nudging the leg ever so slightly.

                She didn’t respond. Her eye ever steady in the scope as she waved the rifle side to side, scanning the road and tree line.

                “Have you seen anyone?”

                Still no response. He’d think that meant that she had, but her body didn’t tense up or brace. Her character he was familiar with, her tendencies when a target was in sight. She didn’t lean into the scope, steadying herself the for the shot. She just remained frozen and silent as a sniper should.

                “You didn’t go to sleep, did you, Hawkeye?”

                “I’m not Colonel,” she whispered back, sounding mildly irritated at the insinuation.

                He grumped and shifted his weight. A drop of water fell on his head and he looked up, clearly annoyed. It was just their luck that the house would be leaky, let alone that water would drip on his head. “Is the rain even going to stop?”

                “No,” she breathed.

                “That’s why we are out here and not Colonel, eh?” He sighed gently, making sure to look away from the window. It wasn’t like there was any light coming into the house. The darkness hid both them well, but they couldn’t take my risks. The man they were hunting was not only a fugitive but a serial killer and kidnapper. If they could take him alive, Havoc and a few other men were waiting to be called from nearby. However, the order was to kill. The rain made it hard to see, hard to hear, hard to keep from shivering. It was practice and dedication that kept her so stationary. He knew that it could all change. She could whip around in an instant, locate the target, and fire before he would know they were ambushed. Granted, that is why he was there. Because Colonel couldn’t risk the loss of his prized sniper. Since the murderer preyed on women, necessary actions were taken to keep her safe. “How long do we wait?”

                Breda wasn’t completely frustrated that she didn’t answer. It was possible that she didn’t hear him, but he also knew that there were times she just couldn’t answer. He waited, hoping that she’d answer eventually. If not, he knew that she had heard him and was taking it into consideration. She had made it this far because of her skills. Breda and even Havoc knew how to shoot. Fuery was even pretty talented behind a handgun. But she was keen. When it came to making sure the shot was spot on, it was Riza Hawkeye with her rifle.

                “Are we even sure he’s coming back today?”

                She turned her head from her scope, setting her chin on her arm. It was completely possible Hawkeye was getting annoyed with her talkative partner. But they had been sitting in complete silence for the past few hours. The roof was leaking onto them. They were cold, hungry, and underdressed. “We can’t move,” she whispered. “We have to stay until he returns.”

                Breda’s face grew stern. He nodded and turned to look out the window. “All night?”

                She nodded.

                They grew quiet again as he settled again into another position. He watched the darkness, listened intently for any sign that they had been flanked and the attacker was coming up the stairs. But it was silence. The only sound was the repetitive tics of the droplets of water next to them, and the tat-tat-tat of the rain splashing onto the tin roof. It was oddly soothing. Another hour went by and Hawkeye rolled over. “I have to pee,” she whispered.

                Breda nodded. They switched positions carefully, Breda slipping by her to hold the rifle as she slid away and behind him. A lower ranking officer might have even been intimidated by the intimacy of the close proximity of an officer, but to Breda and Hawkeye, it was ordinary. They worked closely, were good friends, and trusted each other completely. He looked out into the field, noticing nothing but the grey deluge that fogged the landscape. He didn’t move as he heard her creep back to the bucket. He joked with her when she brought it, but now he understood. She couldn’t leave her post. She could just not move, relieves herself where she lay, but if she had a bucket, she could go and not have to risk the mission by creeping into the bushes. And Breda wasn’t the least bit fazed as he heard her heavy stream hit the bottom of the empty bucket. He didn’t look back, didn’t smirk thinking that she had her pants down… He understood her need to relieve herself and did her the most honorable courtesy of waiting for her return. They worked closely to begin with on other missions. It wasn’t new to see her wander off. If anything, he felt honored that she felt comfortable enough to do that in front of him. And he felt a little more protective of her in that vulnerable position.

                Afterward, he heard a wrapper and her chomp down on something. Again, he didn’t move. She was probably eating something light, just to fill her stomach. That wasn’t unusual either. If she knew it was a moment to step back and take a break, he was fine giving it to her. She’d walk around, in the darkness, out of sight, stretching and readying herself for more motionless watching. He’d give that to her.

                The sun was setting and it was getting too dark for an overlook with a rifle. She patted the back of his leg. “It’s getting too dark,” she whispered. “Come back here.” She waved back into the dark. “We will sit here and watch for light.”

                He nodded and scooted back towards her. They sat back to back, him looking down the hallway again, her out the window. They both strained to see any light, any movement. Breda fought sleep, wondering if she’d be up for taking watch shifts as the other rested. When he turned his head to ask, he felt her shiver. It happened so quickly that he stopped to see if it’d happen again. Sure enough, a quick slip of shiver rippled against his back. “Are you okay,” he asked gently.

                “Yeah,” she responded. “It’s just cold.”

                Breda felt more useless now. He wondered how Havoc and the few other men in the darkness were holding out in this rain. Would her shivering affect her aim? He didn’t want her uncomfortable anyway, let alone if it affected the job. “I wish we had another blanket,” he muttered.

                “It’s fine.” Her voice was steadier than her body at this point. It was firm, level, as her eyes as they strained to look into the dark for any source of light. It was an admirable talent for sure. However, Breda didn’t want her to be cold. It was a tough job, long, tedious, and rather boring. _Tis the life a soldier_ , he thought amused. He got on the radio. “Havoc, this is Breda.” He waited for a response but heard nothing. “Havoc, do you copy?”

                “What are you doing,” she whispered angerly. “You’re going to give his position away.”

                “The guy is going to drive here. That’s is MO.” Breda dismissed her concern. “This is his dumping ground. He’s not going to carry a body through the trees and trails to get here.” He pulled away from their position and looked out the window from the side, tactically peering in the darkness without providing a silhouette. “He’s going to drive right up here.”

                Hawkeye knew he was right. Breda could tell by her shoulders slumping and her heavy sigh that she knew he was right.

                “Havoc,” Breda called again.

                “Havoc here. What’s going on Breda?”

                “’Bout time you answered, you lazy ass.”

                “My lazy ass is covering your lazy ass.”

                Hawkeye threw a small piece of wood at Breda and glared.

                “Havoc, have you seen anything?”

                There was a short pause. “Not a thing. Are we sure he’s coming tonight?”

                Breda and Hawkeye looked at each other, one confident of the return of their target. “Yeah,” Breda confirmed. “But we’re freezing up here. Can you have someone run something up here?”

                “Hey,” Hawkeye intervened angerly. “If they run up here, he might see them if he drives in.”

                Breda turned back to his sure-fire companion. “I’m not going to sit here and see you shiver,” he argued.

                “I’m fine,” she growled angerly.

                “You’re not. Mustang told me to take care of you, and you freezing to death is going to get my ass lit on fire.”

                She continued to glare for a second more before looking away.

                “How many do you need?”

                Breda looked back out the window. “Two coats or blankets? How are you guys faring?”

                “We’re fine,” Havoc bragged. “We’re not cuddling for warmth.”

                Both Hawkeye and Breda held in giggles as they looked at each other. That probably meant they were. However, they also knew the insinuation that Havoc was making, and Hawkeye waved at Breda for the radio. But before she could argue against her blonde companion, he spoke into the radio. “We have a vehicle,” he said quickly. “Headed your way.”

                Slowly they moved into position again. Breda covered her with the rag to help mask her position, tapping her hip as he finished and slid out of the window. “Happy hunting,” he whispered.

                She froze again and he watched as her form froze in her position. Surely it was a work of military art. He’d be happy to see this mission completed. He already planned a nice cup of tea with Hawkeye to thank her for the company.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do a study on how the people in Mustang's team function with each other. I determined that Breda and Hawkeye probably would get along quite well. Breda isn't really defined as much as Havoc, but you can tell he's just as much as an important team member as Mustang listens to him when he's concerned that Ross was not guilty, and is trusted to take care of Ed and the hiding of Ross later. I can't decide if it's going to be just on how each one of them interacts with Hawkeye, or each other... what do you all think? It was fun writing it nonetheless. And I think this one is a bit longer than I wanted... but oh well. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!


	9. Gun Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye meets up Fuery at the gun range. Come to find out, she likes to play games

                The sun was blazing. Blazing hot, causing a thirst of everything it touched. The air was dry, sucking moisture from everything including the soldiers under the limited shade of the canopies at the gun range. Training created repetition. Repetition became second nature. Second nature became part of you, your movements, your identity. And that’s what saved you. So, despite the cruel condition, the sun bared down upon them, the soldiers still practiced shooting. The guns were hot, the steel burning as they picked them up out of the sun. The smell of the lead and gunpowder hung in the air with each shot, and the paper at the other end of the range threatened to light ablaze.

                “This has to be Ishval weather,” he muttered as he took his pose again. His feet were firmly planted, one in front of the other, and the forward toe pointed to the white target. Heat waves distorted his vision of the black torso outline. His shoulders were slightly angled as well, his right arm fully extended with a slight bend in the elbow and his fingers tight but gentle around the gun and trigger. The other shoulder followed the shape of his hips, back a little more. His left hand’s fingers under his right fingers. He raised the pistol with ease so that the sight was level with his right eye. Without closing his left, his finger pulled back on the trigger. The pose was important but also controlled. The gun could not pull to the side or the bullet our miss it’s mark. Firm handling of the gun and tender trigger pull would give him the accurate shots he strived for. He was careful not to hold his breath, to anticipate the bang that erupted from the end of the muzzle. Instead, he breathed normally, letting the gun become an extension of his hand and the bang a result of his finger, not his breathing. He could hear his instructor from when he was cadet reminding him that “holding in your breath causes stiffness when really you should be firm, sturdy, and relaxed.” He pulled the trigger again watching a hole appear in the black part of the paper.

                “Ishval was hot,” the woman agreed, standing next to him. Her blue uniform shirt was off, a white t-shirt, untraditional of her garb, was tucked into her blue pants. Her hands were on her hips as she watched over the line of men shooting from various positions down the line. “And the nights were cold.”

                “I could use a bit of a chill,” he laughed lightly. He let out another shot.

                “What are you focusing for?”

                The younger man looked up at her and tilted her head to the side. “Just focusing on the target,” he explained. “Taking my time.”

                “It’s too damn hot to take your time.” She sat down and reached for her canteen. “You won't fire your weapon slowly when you need to.”

                She was right. This was, after all, her specialty. He nodded and steadied his position, letting off three rounds a little quicker. He was a pretty good shot, to begin with. It defiantly wasn’t like he needed coaching. They didn’t even come together. She pulled up to the range and saw him while he was already shooting. She sat down next to him, quietly readied her target, and then took her gun apart, waiting for someone to yell “clear” indicating the range was cleared so she could put up her target. He watched her rub some oil around the gun, cleaning out the little areas, before easily putting it back together. He had once seen her and Havoc race to take apart and put them back together. She won. Then they challenged her to do it blindfolded. She did it again. She wasn’t just famous for shooting. The gun was indeed a part of her.

                Fuery wanted to go to the range that day for multiple reasons. He was getting stressed out with the amount of line that needed to be buried. He wasn’t able to run as much as he enjoyed. There was a bit of bullying going on and he was having a hard time addressing it. And to top it off, he had a few nightmares of him getting shot, all due to his inability to shoot. It wasn’t like Fuery. He’d never seen combat. And, he was a good shot. So, he took up Havoc’s advice and went to the range for a few hours.

                “Want to play a game?”

                Fuery looked over at her, blinking. He set his gun down and retreated to the shaded part. “What kind of game, Lieutenant?” He took a swig of warm water from his canteen. “Everyone knows we can’t outshoot you.”

                She laughed. “It will be fun.” Hawkeye tilted her head down range. “I will shoot a hole in a new target. You try to get as close as you can to my hole. For each one I shoot, you try to get as close as you can to my hole.”

                Fuery dropped his magazine and started to reload it. “Sounds fun. But you know that I’ll never win.”

                She leaned back in her seat. “It’s not really about winning. It’s about accuracy. I guess you win if you can shoot in my hole directly.”

                Fuery shrugged. There was no harm. It’s wasn’t like Hawkeye to make fun of him or humiliate anyone.

                “If you win,” she continued as she stared loading a new target. “I will help you with your bullying problem.”

                He turned sharply towards her. “How do you know about that?”

                She chuckled at his reaction. “We all know about it. We were just going to let you protect your men. It’s admirable of you to protect them.”

                He smirked. That was exactly what Team Mustang was about. Protecting the ones that were below you. “And how do you win? If I never shoot into your bullet hole?”

                “I really can’t win,” she raised her hand and yelled. “Clear!” A series of “clear” followed down the line and everyone put down their guns. “So, it’s all in your favor.” She walked the target out, counting her steps.

                Fuery had to admit that he admired Lieutenant Hawkeye. She was always soft spoken, and he found his breath caught in this chest when she smiled. And maybe it was because he was younger, or maybe it was because he worked so closely with her and he knew her better than most in the offices, but he found her beautiful. She moved with grace, her hands were steady, her convictions were unwavering, and she was caring. Colonel Mustang was right in keeping her by his side. In that, Fuery felt a little jealous. He watched her walk back, tugging at her collar.

                “I was hoping to enjoy the getaway from the office. Now I’m looking forward to going back.”

                He chuckled, putting his gun in its holster. “Yeah,” Fuery agreed. “But it’s hot in the office too.”

                She checked her gun and watched the other shooters return back to the comfort of the shade. She smirked, wiping the sweat on her forehead.

                Fuery looked down the line too. It was interesting to see her here and not by Mustang’s side. Maybe he was irritating her, and she decided to go to the range instead of shooting him. Maybe she came out so often that it just happened to be today they ran into each other. Normally Mustang or even Havoc joined her when she went to the range. She nudged him with her shoulder, a gentle and happy smile, before lifting her service weapon and fired a quick shot to the target. She hit it square in the center of course. She didn't need to steady herself. Her arm swung up, and fired, single-handedly. That's how natural, how steady she was. It was something to not only admire, but strive for. Fuery was only a Sargent, but it wasn't like he had his own ambitions. And Mustang promised rises in the ranks. They were all going to go to the top with him. How could he move up, keep his subordinates safe, and not know how to protect anyone? 

                Fuery wasn't intimidated by her centered shot though. “Easy,” he laughed as he raised his pistol, taking his aggressive pose and fired.

                Hawkeye nodded with an open smile. “Well done, Fuery!” She pointed to the target, smirking. 

                He looked up and saw that he had hit rather close to hers, maybe a half of an inch to the right.

                “Now we go faster.” She raised her gun and shot up in the corner.

                One at a time they fired. She’d fire, he’d fire. She’d fire, he’d fire. It became to the point where they were firing right after each other at a quickened pace. Then they’d reload, and change the target, and go again. They found themselves laughing, grinning at each other as they pulled the trigger and Fuery's aim followed hers at a quickened place. It had turned from a training session into what Hawkeye called a game. They didn't even consider what they were doing was practice, but a game of cat and mouse, of fox and hound. And after two boxes of bullets, they sat down in the shade and admired their work. The papers, littered with punctures from hot lead, lay still on a bench between them. Fuery pointed to two holes on one of the latter pages. They were touching. “Hey,” he snickered. “I got you here.” He wiped the sweat on the back of his neck. 

                She grinned as she sat back, taking a healthy swig of her canteen. “So, you did.” She grabbed her pistol, again taking it apart and started to clean it. He watched as she sat smiling and just wiping her service gun down. It seemed that she cleaned it more than she shot it. He remembered a conversation she and Falman had in the office on an afternoon. It wasn't an argument, but mutual conversation as they normally had. Falman and her didn't argue like the others in the office. Hawkeye and he agreed that it was better to have an immaculately clean weapon because a dirty one was more likely to fail. A failed gun lead to death. Fuery couldn't remember the statistics that Falman had offered to support her philosophy, but it made sense. She looked down the open slide, checking for dirt or sand before putting it back together. “I will address they bully issue you’re dealing with. Don’t worry.” With a snap and a slide, her gun was ready to fire again. She holstered it and wiped her hands on a rag. 

                Fuery laughed. “I’m sure you know who it is.” If they all knew, then she would. He had to wonder how they all knew but didn't say anything. It wasn't him that was being harassed, but an enlisted man. And he had tried to address the issue, however, the harasser failed to comply. It was even more curious to how Lieutenant Hawkeye intended to solve the issue. 

                She nodded. “Yeah.” Fuery noticed how her brown eyes were bright in the sunlight. Even though they were in the dirt and sand, the air filled with the smell of lead and gunpowder, her complexion was clear. She grabbed her uniform jacket and stood up, stretching her neck side to side. She patted his shoulder, a casual action but one that Fuery took with pride, as she started to walk back. “You know,” she stopped to say. “As we protect the ones below us, they can protect the ones below them. We all think you’re great for addressing this issue as you have.”

                Fuery nodded. He watched her leave, just as she came. She was quiet, almost meditating in thought, as she made it back to her car. He looked back at his gun. His hands reached to pull it apart as he reached for his cleaning supplies. He’d give it a quick cleansing before heading back himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, Rando29. What do you think? I know, the last two were on shooting and Hawkeye's skill. And this one was kind of short... The next with Havoc will have a little more humor, I think. 
> 
> How does everyone like it?   
> Thank you for reading!


	10. Grilled Cheese

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Winry try to have kitchen sex, with a grilled cheese. Hilarity follows.

               It was midafternoon, the sun was hot in the sky with a few clouds lazily floating on. There was no rush to the day, no overhanging due dates or requirements. It was refreshing to sleep in, cuddle, and wake up with the world at their own pace. This was not always the case. They relished in the morning sun, teased each other, kissed every part the sun beamed on their skin, and fought over getting out of bed. The morning was cherished, to say the least. But as the day began, so did their daily routines. Though there were no preceding arrangements, routines still held in place. Their loving eyes still wandered, memories of the morning still fresh in their minds. They weren’t necessarily “newly” lovers, but it felt like it. In fact, Winry and Ed were expecting their first child with still five months to go.

                Ed, after finishing his late breakfast, consisting of an apple and some homemade granola, kissed his wife goodbye, grabbed Den, and headed out the door. That was a routine of its own. Den was getting old and it was especially hard on Edward. It wasn’t that Winry was having difficulties watching her friend age and grew old, but Ed and Den were always close. So, in his lasting days, Ed made an effort to take him out on walks in the countryside. It was nothing strenuous, but meaningful to enjoy the company that Ed missed on his younger journeys. Sometimes they’d go fishing, which Winry was sure meaning they’d go nap by the pond. Other days they’d make their way into town and get a newspaper. One thing was for certain when Winry looked out the window to see them returning, Ed was walking next to Den at his old pace, talking gently to him. It was another reason to love the man.

                When the door opened on this particular afternoon, the old dog took a long drink of his water and collapsed on his pillow by the front door. Ed did not. He grinned, smelling lunch, and retrieved his own glass of water, and stood behind his wife watching her cook. Honestly, he was watching her ass sway as she hummed to a song. The kitchen was filled with the rich aroma of warmed cheese and it made his stomach grumble anxiously. Edward loved grilled cheeses. If there was anything he loved as much as apple pie, it might have been grilled cheeses… or maybe stew, or lamb… but, he loved a good grilled cheese on a lazy afternoon. “Is this some delectable reward for this morning,” he snickered, grabbing his wife’s hips and leaning into her.

                Winry laughed. “I said thank you. What else do you want?”

                “A kiss,” he whispered into her ear. His fingers gently brushed her hair to the side, his fingers tenderly grazing the back of her neck. A shiver when up her spine and he must have noticed since he pressed his lips carefully over her bare shoulder. Never in Ed’s life had he been so grateful of the heat. Winry was in a tank top, exposing her shoulders to him, and the chance to ravish her neckline and shoulders made him aroused instantly.

                She moaned, at first sarcastically, but it turned into a real one as she leaned into his erection.

                “Want to go again?” His hot breath whispered into her ear.

                Maybe it was how lazy the day was, or maybe it was Winry’s pregnancy hormones. It also could be that she loved the smell of his sweat or his loving demeanor towards her faithful companion. But she did want to go again. She wanted to lay in bed all way with him, letting his hands graze her growing breasts and let her kisses trail down his chest to his navel. “I wouldn’t mind that,” she tried to play it off. Her higher tone and gasp after gave her arousal away and he snickered. She felt his hands glide down her sides, grabbing her hips again and pressing firmly against her backside. And here she was, worried he'd find her unattractive when she got pregnant. Instead, he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

                “But,” he groaned. “The sandwiches will get cold,” he whined.

                “We can have both,” she giggled.

                “Careful,” he breathed. “You may be opening a box you never wanted open.”

                “What?

                “Me eating grilled cheese off you,” he pressed his pulsing dick against her again.

                Winry instantly started laughing. “Oh no, Honey.” She leaned over the counter, hearing Ed moan. His foot slid her foot to the side, giving her a wider stance and he approached from behind. “I mean like this.” She grabbed a sandwich next to her. “I’ll just feed you the sandwich while you do me from behind.”

                “Oh my…” He grinned. “This day will never get any better.” Not only did Winry dislike doing it in the kitchen, but she never really agreed to him eating anything off her. It was messy and sticky, and it just wasn’t exactly her thing. So, Ed was more than excited to jump into this little fantasy of his.

                Winry lifted her hips against his as she passed the sandwich over her shoulder so he could bite out of it. Ed moved forward but the grilled cheese did not make it. It was still fresh, the cheese still melted. Winry’s thumb went right through the bread and it broke, going into her hair. Ed reeled back and started laughing and Winry did the same. “So much for that,” she gasped through the laughs.

                Ed reached up, pulling the bit of sandwich off his love, tossing one piece in his mouth as he laughed hysterically. No matter that his chance at having sex in the kitchen was utterly eliminated. The scene was one of originality and was something they’d laugh about for years to come. It was good to have such a good sense of humor, and he had to wonder if just years before if either one of them would have handled that moment any differently.

                “We’ll have lunch first,” Winry turned, throwing another bit of sandwich at him.

                Ed’s head fell back as he caught the piece. “That was so funny!”

                She grinned. “Oh, it’s in my hair! I got cheese in my hair!”

                He tried to lean forward to lick it out, but Winry put her hand on his face and pushed him away. He was still laughing too hard to do anything about it. “I’d like to say it looks great,” he chuckled. “But maybe it’s a bit cheesy.” He grabbed his stomach as he rolled over laughing harder than before.

                She only smirked at his “dad” humor. Of course, Ed would laugh at his own jokes. “Go give Den his meds. I’ll set the table.” She giggled as she walked away. Winry wasn’t going to bend over laughing, but she felt the whole episode most amusing. She would have found it much more humorous if cheese wasn’t in her hair.

                Ed reached over, grabbing another part of the sandwich and the container of meds. He slipped a pill between the toasted bread and walked over to the living room.

                “Damn it, Edward! Stop giving him human food! He’s getting fat!”

                Ed took a few bigger steps to avoid anything she was throwing at him, tossing Den the cheesy treat. “He can have a little! It’s fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't stop laughing. It's not as detailed as I wanted, but I wrote it while I was laughing. Just let the scenario seep into your brain. 
> 
> Thank you so much for being a reader!! There's more to come!


	11. No Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prior to the Promised Day, Ed visiting Winry before they leave, he has something to tell her. But he can't. Actions always speak louder than words.

                They had kisses before, but not like this. Not soul-shattering, spacing, lonesome duel existence, and frozen time, kiss. Before it had been cute. A courtesy of friendship. She’d kiss him on the cheek before they’d go home, or he kissed her forehead when she was sick. It wasn’t out of affection, but friendship. His heart didn’t stop during those times. Her sense of direction and time wasn’t forgotten as it was this time. There was intention behind this kiss. There was emotion. They both felt it, and they both craved it. They couldn’t get enough afterward.

                It could have been a mistake, it could have been on purpose. But before the Promised Day, Edward had come to terms that he had feelings for his mechanic. He had deep and lustful feelings for his mechanic. His heart yearned for his return home, to smell her pillows, to bury himself in her blankets, holding her so close that not light or air penetrated between them. Founding Gods of myths could only compare. It was dream after dream, relentless to remind him of his nagging hormones as a grown teen.

                When he did go home, back to Pinako’s house, they quietly stored themselves away. They didn’t want to stay long if Winry wasn’t there. But, if he was to fail in his own epic, he’d want to say bye to the only “home” he had. Maybe it was best if he didn’t see her. He would fall apart, possibly disregard his destiny. And when she did arrive, it took everything for him not to pick her up and hold her till his muscles could not hold any longer. There was an awkward silence, a feeling between them as she worked on his arm. Their spat, a disagreement of his concern for her, their argument, did not sway his feelings. He’d have to come back for her. He could not abandon her, could not come back like her parents.

                As the night closed, he came back to the kitchen as she packed them a little food leftover from dinner. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He stood behind her. She probably knew he was there. But he watched. He wanted... needed to apologize. His chest hurt from earlier, and it hurt more that he couldn’t tell her. He didn’t know how. The others in the house were discussing the route to take, to avoid patrols and main roads. But they were alone. It was bold, but Ed had to take it.

                His hands reached out to hold her hips and he placed his lips on the back of her shoulder. “Know that it’s not because I’m weak in mind, but weak-hearted.”

                She paused as he touched her and for a second more he thought that it was too intimate, that it was too much in general. She dried her hands off on a nearby towel and placed her hands over his. “You are the strongest person I know,” she whispered in return. “I will never doubt you. Not for a second. Please don’t doubt yourself.”

                He couldn’t respond. He didn’t doubt, he just didn’t want to be wrong. He wasn’t going to be arrogant and foolish. He was going to cover his bases and think of her safety. He turned her around, she following willingly. He looked into her blue eyes and gulped. “Can you keep a secret,” he whispered. Actually, it was more of a croak. It was deep, from his chest, and quiet as his breath. She tilted her head and blushed. He’d never been this close, and he knew this was not normal behavior from him. But if he didn’t make it back, he didn’t want this to be a regret. He wanted to admit his secrets, his admiration of her. “I….” He wasn’t even sure if he could.

                “Spit it out,” She rushed, hitting him lightly in the chest where her hands had migrated.

                “I… Winry….”

                “Edward, what are you saying?” He was sure she knew, she just wanted to hear it for herself.

                And he couldn’t say it. Instead, he rushed her. His lips crashed into hers, sucking the breath from her lungs. There was instant suction, a perfect fit as their lips connected. He couldn’t see her own eyes wide in surprise because they were tightly sewn shut. He was sure his heart stopped. He was certain that there was no air in the room anymore. The feeling of her lips was just as he imagined, and she tasted just as he dreamed. He could smell her, feel her… it was understanding her personally just by feeling his lips slip against hers. Electricity shot through his body, igniting every cell. It felt like fire burning over his skin, in this stomach, up his spine. There was no helping the grip he had on her shoulders as his own body clenched in pleasure and surprise of the accuracy of his imagination. She at first didn’t move, but he didn’t stop, he didn’t feel he could, even with his chest about to explode from the lack of oxygen which his body required. Alchemy could never produce this for him, only organic untransmutable material could give him such euphoria.

He groaned as he parted, almost reluctant and sad that it was necessary to do so. The pressure on his chest encouraged it, withdrawing from the stiffness of her hands between them. The oxygen returned to his lungs as he felt his lips lick her taste from his bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I…” Now he could see her surprised expression. It wasn’t hurtful, hateful, angry… just unadulterated surprise.

                This time, she couldn’t say what she needed to say. Her hands wrapped around Ed’s neck, feeling his hair, slipping her fingers against his scalp as she pulled him down back onto her. Suddenly, there wasn’t anything stopping them from being so close. His chest pressed her against the counter behind her, releasing another groan, deep in his chest. She whined, seemingly begging for more. But Ed didn’t know how to give more. He didn’t even know what he was doing. He only hoped that it was good, that it was as mesmerizing for her as it was for him. The stars, the sun, every element created by the rotating particles and atoms that surrounded them… It all was obsolete to this. And if he was a genius, or a protégé before this kiss, it alone reduced him to nothing. He knew nothing in the world but her and him. He feared that if he opened his eyes that it’d be all a dream again and she’d be gone. It was a simple slip of the lips and his grasping of her hips that parted them again, gasping for air. With pants fitting tighter, and an uncomfortable bulge forming, he feared her feeling uncomfortable and shying away. Instead, she blinked a few times before looking at him, her chest heaving heavily. She made no motion of fleeing. She instead stared into his golden eyes as if she was as mesmerized by them as he was of hers, wishing to never forget them.

                “Will you be here when I get back?”

                She nodded slowly. “If you promise to come back.”

                He couldn’t respond. His mind wasn’t on the fight. And it needed to be. He couldn’t be caught getting lost in her blue ovals as he was now. He couldn’t be distracted by the taste of her on his lips, or how her hair smelled when he was fighting for his last breath. And he knew he would be. Maybe kissing her was a bad idea, but it wasn’t regretful at all. Ed’s hand cupped Winry’s cheek, her leaning into it, smiling at the gentle contact. That was new too. They’d been at odds, a fiery relationship fueled entirely on angst and love at the same time. It was all gone. There was none of that. None of that mattered. And he never wanted it again. He’d spend the rest of his life in quiet bliss, holding her body close to his in the morning sun if he came back. But he couldn’t say that. He didn’t know how.

                He turned to let his hand fall from her face. Coughing quietly, taking in a deep breath before leaving the room, he knew he was going to have to return. There was no argument there, no compromise. It was going to happen. His tongue instinctively licked his lips again, just to take in the tasteful heaven again. “Whenever you guys are ready,” he announced. “We better go before it’s too late.” He picked up his jacket. “We don’t want to be late to this party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted from a co-worker who said, "What is more powerful and expressive as a first kiss?" I will be getting back to Hawkeye soon. No worries. As always, let me know what you think, and thank you for being a reader!


	12. Just Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of my staying in bed sequence.

                The room was dark, snoring filling the void. The little black and white dog curled into a ball at the foot of the bed snored easily and lightly. His tail covering his nose as he dozed. The sheets of the bed clearly were ruffled, tangled around the bodies that occupied it. Their feet tangled, touching closely, and in-between one other. Their legs, however, matched the other’s form perfectly. Her hips pressed against his as his long arms wrapped around her and pulled her close to him. From an observer, it’d look like he was not only protecting her but protecting himself from losing her. Her head rested gently on his arm, his tucked against hers, snoring. Her arm had reached back and had settled on his hip, while the other curled into her chest and held onto his arm.

                He snapped his mouth shut and swallowed as he woke to himself drooling. The air was perfect around them, still and quiet and he looked down to hear her steady breathing as she snoozed away.  It was normal for him to wake during the night, and he wondered if it was worth getting up now and getting ready for work or if he should try to get a few more hours of sleep. Roy sat up, carefully as not to move her, and looked at the clock. He still had just over two hours before he needed to get up. He debated as he looked down at the blonde hair that was pressed between his chest on her back. He could go for a run, maybe even pick her up breakfast and fresh coffee when the café opened up. He was sure she’d be sleeping still. She slept a lot lately, and he couldn’t help but enjoy a nap with her when possible. With her time off, it was more than before.

                He slowly began to remove himself from her. Their perfect forms broke as he delicately, and tenderly, let her go on sleeping by herself. But as soon as he started moving, Riza stirred, grabbing his arm firmly and pulling him closer. “No,” she whined. “Stay.”

                Roy smiled down at her. “I’m going to go get breakfast and go for a run.” He whispered quietly into her ear as if he didn’t want to disturb the silence that calmed the room that morning. “I’ll be right back.”

                She resisted further, not letting his arm go. “No,” she repeated. “Just stay here.”

                Roy could not deny her and he dropped back into place behind her, pulling her back into a spooning again. He kissed below her earlobe, nuzzling her temple, and closed his eyes. His hand drifted down her side, settling naturally on her extended stomach. He supposed that now was the time to sleep. When the time came, the only one enjoying a nap would be Hayate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just need to stay in bed. I know my chapters are all over the place. I didn't initially think of doing it this way. I guess it's like my head. Haha Scattered and inconsistent. But I do enjoy some good Royai. Hope you did too. 
> 
> Thank you for reading.


	13. What are Friends For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short snip of Roy and Hughes. They cause some trouble at the bar and end up at Hughe's place. 
> 
> Dedicated to my brother, who if I did start a bar fight, he'd finish it with me.

                The bar’s air was heavy and smoky and loud. It was full of young military men, which was usual on a Friday night. There was loud cheering, singing, and beers swung in the air as they toasted to the Officer who was recently promoted. And although the two friends were drinking and even laughing and singing, they didn’t seem to engage in the loud group of ruffians. They sat off to the side towards the end of the day, holding their beers as they chatted. They were indeed good friends, far closer than any of these drunks could be to their new officer. Neither Roy or Maes would admit that it was good to celebrate, and the promoted deserved it, Roy still had other opinions.

                “He’s an ass.”

                Hughes leaned back, running his hand through his hair. “He is. Yes. I agree. But we were invited. That says something right?”

                Roy scrunched his nose and took a swig of his beer, burping lightly. “I’m not sure I want to be so closely associated which Jensen. He’s an ass.”

                “You said that already.” Hughes patted his friend roughly on the back, almost causing Roy to spill his drink and earning him a sour look. “I’m sure he’s not completely fond of you either. You, after all, are just as old as him and moving up in the ranks faster.”

                Roy grinned and chuckled. “Yeah, well… Mine is based on merit.” He turned on his stool, leaning over the counter and waving at the bartender for another beer.

                “Right.” Hughes turned on his stool too, leaning over with a raise of his eyebrow and a dark look. “Because being able to kill someone with a snap of your fingers is merit,” he whispered lowly.

                The young Lieutenant Colonel hmphed, not responding. He finished off his old beer and accept the new one. He was already feeling the alcohol but didn’t want to really be at the party to begin, with so had decided that he’d get stupid drunk instead.

                “I’m not sure why you don’t have a wife yet,” Hughes nudged his friend’s shoulder roughly.

                “Because I don’t want one.”

                “You don’t want a beautiful wife?” Hughes grinned proudly. “They make you so happy!”

                Roy rolled his eyes and chuckled. “It’s one more thing I’d be responsible for.”

                “But the mornings… Oh God, Roy!”

                “I don’t need to hear about your stupid mornings.”

                “You might be happy too if you got laid on a regular basis.”

                Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and he smirked. “Who says I’m not?”

                “Because I know you’re not sleeping with your informants.”

                “Hey!” Roy sat back and laughed loudly. “I have girlfriends! I had a date the day before yesterday!”

                His friend waved a finger in his face. “Did you wake up with her?”

                There was a sober moment and Roy’s face fell.

                “That’s what I thought.” Hughes turned back to hear another cheer erupt in the small crowd. “Speaking of women. Where is that Hawkeye chick?”

                Roy sighed. “She said she wouldn’t come.”

                “Weird,” Hughes pouted. “I like her. What did you do to piss her off?”

                “What makes you think I pissed her off?”

                Another cheer erupted again with a loud clank of the heavy beer steins.

                “Yeah,” Hughes grumped. “They are asses.”

                “She said I was intolerable with I was drunk.” Roy’s shoulder sagged, clearly pouting. “I stepped on her pen. Her favorite pen. Broke it.”

                Hughes couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

                “It’s not that funny,” Roy exclaimed. “She dropped it as I was walking by! And I didn’t even mean to! Now she won't talk to me!” He laid his face on the cold bar next to his beer. “She had lunch with Breda…”

                “You’re not jealous, are you?”

                He turned his face away from his so-called friend. “No…” A low whine immitted from him. 

                Hughes just continued to laugh. “You are intolerable! But I think that if I called her, she’d still take you home and…”

                “Don’t even joke about that,” Roy sat up and took a drink from his new beer. “The last thing I need is assumptions. I don’t need Major Jensen catching up to me in rank. I need to shove it in his face when I get promoted to Colonel.”

                The two men tried to go out for drinks more often, but work and a certain wife made it a bit difficult. Hughes was on his way to being promoted to Central… Transferred was more like it. Neither was certain that it was a promotion. They knew that in a month or so, they’d be chatting over the phone.

                Hughes waved down a girl at the end of the bar. “Do you want to be the Flame Alchemist’s wife?”

                “Shut up, Hughes!”

                The girl blushed and waved shyly at Roy who dropped his head back to the bar.

                “Hey,” a voice interrupted the two and Hughes looked behind him. “You just can’t pull rank to get girls.”

                Hughes grinned. “Why not? It’s not like you’re a threat.”

                The man fumed and another came up behind him, seemingly there to back his friend up. He slammed his mug down on the bar counter. “I could kick your ass since you’re only a desk jockey.”

                Hughes bumped his friend who had decided not to engage in the argument. Hughes did have a habit of being boastful. “You hear that, Mustang? This guy thinks that we just sit on our asses all day.” He thumbed to the back of Roy’s head. “This guy is the Flame Alchemist. He’s not one to mess with.” Another of the partiers turned to see the argument. But Hughes didn’t stop there, even though they were starting to get attention. “And he thinks Major Jensen is an _ass_.”

                The guy turned to Roy than back at Hughes. “You think this is funny?’

                Roy chuckled and took a drink of his beer. “Hilarious,” he muttered. “Like your face.”

                The initiator growled lowly and stepped forward to hit Roy in the back of the head. He didn’t see Hughes step back with a grin, or Roy put down his beer. But he was intoxicated enough that his reactions were compromised and as Roy stepped to the side, the man’s fist fell into the bar. Roy grabbed the back of his head and threw it into the counter, and he fell promptly to the floor.

                “You dick,” his friend yelled. “What the fuck was that for?”

                Hughes continued to grin as he shrugged. “I don’t know. It looked like he slipped to me.”

                With a heavy sigh from the superior officer, it was on. Roy didn’t exactly enjoy bar fights as much anymore since being promoted. He didn’t need any trouble, and he didn’t need to lose integrity to the brass. But as the two threw punches and ducked to avoid others, he knew that Grumman would back him up and side with Roy. He normally did.

                Hughes grabbed one guy and flipped his legs out from under him as Roy threw a guy on the counter and punched him in the stomach before throwing his folded body behind the counter. “It’s time to leave,” he called to his friend. “Looks like there were more asses here than we anticipated.”

                Hughes stepped the side as he craftily planted a punched another guy in the nose. “Yeah, I’m getting bored. Looks like I am getting too good at my desk job.” Roy opened the front door as Hughes jumped out. “And my wife is prettier than yours!”

                “Pretty sure Jensen isn’t married,” Roy commented as they took off down the road away from the hollering that followed.

                They wandered around the city as they realized that they had run off in the wrong direction. The streets were empty but were filled with the two giving each other some grump, stumbling in the middle of the street. From anyone looking out at them from a window would guess it was a reunion of two brothers, not friends out for the weekend. One rubbed his shoulder from where he’d gotten hit, and the other rolled his shoulders back complaining that he should have stretched before. “Yeah, because we’re getting so old at 25!”

                He could have argued more, or even avoided going in, but Hughes grabbed him by his collar and dragged him up the stairs to his door. With an eccentric fashion, he swung open his front door and tossed his friend inside. “You can stay here!” He announced. “We will make pancakes in the morning! You haven’t had her pancakes yet! Once you do, you’ll know how awesome she is!”

                “Hughes?”

                The two men looked up at the tired Gracia in her nightgown.

                “About time you got back. Hello again, Lieutenant Colonel.”

                Roy waved from his defeated spot on the floor. “Good evening, Mrs. Hughes.”

                She giggled as he turned on the light in the living room. “It’s more like morning,” she replied with a yarn. “Looks like you two had fun.”

                “Oh, wonderful fun,” Hughes agreed gleefully as he pulled her into his arms. “Too bad I don’t have too many boo-boos for you to kiss.” He leaned forward, giving her kisses on her cheek, speaking in a lovey baby tone.

                Gracia just patted her husband’s chest and gently pushed him away. “Yes, well you smell like you had enough to drink for the two of us.”

                “And me too,” Roy lifted his hand, still not moving from the floor. “And he is the one that started a fight. You married quite the instigator.”

                “You’re the one who said he was an ass.”

                “Language, Maes.” She opened the closet and handed her husband two blankets. “You two can sleep out here. You stink.”

                Roy watched from his position as she gently handed the blankets to him and kissed her husband on the cheek. He blushed as she ran her hand carefully through his hair. “We will indeed make pancakes in the morning.” Then she walked over to Roy, helping him to the feet. “Come on, Roy. Let’s get you to the couch.” He noticed how gentle her touch was and he knew that Hughes was certainly blessed to have her. Everything he ever said about her being an angel was correct. As he fell onto the couch, Hughes falling next to him on the floor, he felt her pat his thigh, bending over to kiss her husband’s forehead before walking quietly back to her bed.

                “Okay,” Roy muttered. “She is pretty awesome.”

                “Told you,” he replied in a whisper. “But don’t wake her up with your snoring.”

                He chuckled and his eyes started to close. It really didn’t matter. He didn’t think he’d ever find a wife quite like her. Instead, he’d climb the ranks and fulfill the promises that they made in the desert of Ishval. If he at least did that, he’d be half the man Hughes was.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that there are not enough Roy and Maes stories... just as friends. So I decided to add one. A little Birthday Present to myself! Gotta love that! Maybe I should post something tomorrow too while I'm in bed with my pooch. 
> 
> Love all of you! Thank you for being a reader!


	14. Why do you have a metal leg?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and Children fic!! Ed is out playing with his kids and his son asks why he has a metal leg.

                 Ed was supposed to be weeding the garden collecting the few vegetables that were ready this early in the summer. He was asked to go out and to clear out the irrigation ditches as well. So, Winry wasn’t surprised when she opened the window to let the warm air from the stove out and the cool breeze in, to see Ed out there running around and playing with his children. That was honestly like him. He didn’t really try to escape them as they chased him around in the grass, and he was gentle as he fought them off him when they scampered up his legs. The air was filled with their laughter, drowning out anything else.

                It was refreshing, even years later, to hear him laugh like this. To Winry, there was no one else in the world that deserved happiness more than Edward Elric. She could still remember his screams as he accepted the automail, his nightmares, his struggles, and his sad eyes. Now, his face was soft, his touch was soft, and although she could agree that he was far more mature than he was before, he seemed overall happier than she’d ever seen him. Even as she watched him, laying on his back throwing his daughter in the air and catching her under the warm sun, she would never forget what was just years before.

                Edward picked a little dandelion and handed it to his daughter while his son climbed up his back to his shoulders. “Here you are,” he smiled gently. “A flower for my princess.” His daughter laughed and smiled as she got up and picked a few more that were nearby. His son, in the meantime, reached his shoulders and rolled himself over, falling into Ed’s lap. “What are you doing,” he asked as his son waved his arms and feet in his face. Ed put his hand under his son, easily flipping him out of his lap and into the grass, tumbling past his sister. The boy was not easily stopped, and Edward would have it no other way. He was the same at his age.

                The boy ran face on to his father, widening his arms as if he was going to tackle his father. Ed absorbed the hit, but fell back drastically, exhaling a hard “oof” as his son connected with him. He reached up, grabbing his son by his sides and lifting him above him. “You think you’re so funny!”

                “I got you!” The child laughed.

                “Yes you did,” Ed lied with a smirk. “You’re going to grow up big and strong, aren’t you?”

                The kid nodded.

                “Daddy!”

                Ed turned to look at his daughter who now held a bouquet of dandelions. “Pretty!”

                Ed nodded, putting his son down in the grass and tickled him lightly. “They sure are!” He bent over, smelling them. “Don’t they smell good?” He gently took a dandelion and put it behind her ear, kissing her forehead before his son began to climb on him again.

                She grinned excitedly, showing her little teeth proudly, and ran away to find some more.

                It didn’t matter to Ed. She was having such a wonderful time, and though dandelions were considered a weed, we felt he was only doing a service by convincing his daughter they were pretty and to pick them. As for his son, he was full of energy and needed a good wrestle. His chores could wait. He grabbed his son rolling over with loud boastful laughs so that he was on his stomach, next to his son. They looked exactly alike, with the difference being that his son still had short hair, but their bangs were the same with an identical antenna.

                “Do you think that I will become a great alchemist one day?”

                Ed looked at his boy, brightness in his eyes. “You can be whatever you want to be.” He turned on his side and patted his son’s back as he noticed he was drawing a circle in the dirt. “Work hard and you can be better than you’re Uncle Al!”

                “I don’t know,” the boy snickered. “Uncle Al is the best.”

                “Yes, he is,” Ed sighed. Uncle Al could still do alchemy. It was hard to try to explain to a six-year-old that he was once very good too but couldn’t anymore. He didn’t need to ruin the child’s imagination or press his mind beyond being simple. That’s what he truly wanted for his children, for them to live simply, and to live out their childhood. He had lost his and Ed had no intentions of seeing his children follow in his footsteps.

                “Dad,” his son sat up, folding his legs in front of him. “Why do you have a metal leg and we don’t?”

                Edward rubbed his forehead. It was an expected question. And there were a million ways of answering it! He’d thought it over before, even talked about it with Winry, but he hoped that his son would be a little bit older. “Well…”

                His little girl came scampering back and pointed to the sheep in the distance. “Daddy! The sheep!”

                Ed pulled her into his lap as he sat up and kissed her on the head. She smelled very similar to Winry. “They are on the move huh. Maybe we can go down there and you two can go chase them with Mr. Renyold’s dogs.”

                She looked up grinning and bounced in his lap.

                “Son,” Ed wrapped his arms around his daughter. “With every action, there is an equal reaction. My metal leg is a reminder of my sins, of my mistakes. This is what the trade for my sins.”

                His son tilted his head, expecting a story from his wise father.

                “Remember the law of alchemy?”

                “Equivalent Exchange,” his daughter squeaked.  “You must give something to gain something.”

                “That’s right,” Ed glowed with pride. “Well, I gave my leg up to… to gain something. And I won't ever forget it.”

                “What did you get in return? Was it worth it?” His son was so inquisitive.

                Ed tapped his chin and then shook his head. “It was. I gained other things in trying to right my wrongs. I lost more in my greed.” He reached out, ruffling his son’s wild hair. “But I gained everything in my humility.” 

                His son seemed to be thinking on it as his daughter wiggle free from his hug and ran towards the house.

                “The whole world is connected. Every action you make there is a reaction somewhere else. What I did, my sin, I lost my leg. But because I lost my leg, your mom and I fell in love, and I was able to go and travel the entire country and serve in the army. And then we had you two!” He stood up, brushing the grass off his shorts. “But to achieve all this,” he said as he pointed to his son, “I had to work very very hard. Nothing comes for free. And the best things come from hard work.” Ed looked over at their small garden. “Like those cabbages. We must make sure they get enough sun, don’t freeze, water them twice a day, and we must weed the garden diligently in order to receive a good crop.”

                His son nodded but his eyes were focused and confused. He tried to make rhyme and reason to his father’s words. Ed could only smile. His son might be a little too young to understand true consequences and alchemy laws. He swooped him up, tossing him into the sun. They started to laugh as he heard Winry call at them. “Hey, you two! You better get washed up for lunch!”

                “Hear that?”

                “Lunch,” the little boy shrieked. “Yay!” He wiggled frantically as Ed put him down, speeding off as soon as his legs hit the ground. Ed watched and followed at a more leisurely pace. He didn’t want to be defined by his mistakes as a youth, but by the way he overcame them as an adult. Hopefully, his children would learn from that and pave their own ways to happiness.

            

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I wrote this a long time ago. I'm finally posting it. I wasn't even sure if I should. I hope you all enjoyed it. I'm really starting to think about Ed and his kids lately. What you do you think?
> 
> Thank you for being a reader!


	15. Training Exercises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Team goes to competition with another general. Havoc gets stuck with Hawkeye during the training instead of being on the ground where he wants. Bad luck leads Havoc with an injury and an embarrassing situation with Hawkeye.

                    Havoc peered through the binoculars at his friend. He had a feeling they were going to lose this drill, this game. It wasn’t like Breda was clumsy, or inexperienced, or uncoordinated. He was an officer for a reason. But field work just wasn’t his specialty, strategy was. Breda should have been up there looking at him, in the field. He watched Breda with about fifteen men push through the brush. He scanned the surrounding area, looking for potential patrols nearby.

                 Havoc sighed heavily looking back at his two companions. Hawkeye and Fuery sat above him, Hawkeye also looking through field glasses, and Fuery on his radio relaying information as she talked. These military games were just that, games. The purpose was for strategical reasons, however, they seemed to competitions between upper officers. They had at first believed that their beloved Colonel had been running his mouth about his “superior” forces to another Colonel, but it was higher up than this. To put it simply, the Brigadier General had picked his best Colonel, which happened to be Mustang, to go against another Brigadier General’s favorite Colonel. It went down like that. Colonel Mustang picked his First Lieutenant, she’d pick her best Second Lieutenant, who would pick his best Sergeant. Warrant officer Falman was the only one that was lucky enough to escape the games. He and Mustang formed a tactical plan and Falman stayed behind to run the office with other officers in their absence. The idea was instead of a large-scale game of three thousand soldiers, it was far less. It also gave Mustang’s personal team a chance to give his reputation a boost. It gave him a chance to show his own men’s skill of offensive and defensive tactics to his Brigadier General. His men’s skill reflected on him. Havoc sighed again, letting his head fall as he remembered Mustang giving them quite the lecture on performance and promotions or some shit like that.

                “There’s a patrol 300 yards ahead of them,” Hawkeye said softly. Havoc watched her head turn. “Mustang needs to move to the East about 50 Yards and wait.”

                This game was simple enough. They had to bypass security patrols, locate a box, and retrieve the flag within the box, and make it out unnoticed. All men had to be captured to lose. It was a game of silence, not alchemy, not shooting, but surveillance and maneuvers. It was more difficult since it was in the light. It was probably best not to have Edward Elric wasn’t here, he’d just charge in, screaming. The thought brought a smirk to Havoc as he looked over the tree line in the valley below him. “We have a patrol wandering too close to Colonel and his squad,” Havoc said. “Looks like two men from the south.”

                “I see that too,” Havoc confirmed.

                “Colonel,” Fuery said into the mic. “You’ve got two men coming straight to your position from the South.”

                Havoc should have been down there. This was Havoc’s game. He was excellent at sneaking around and undercover missions. He probably, with five men, complete this whole game. But he made a fatal mistake with Hawkeye which lead to him being on a damn hill and not in the field. When Mustang announced that they’d be going to the games, they expected Hawkeye and Mustang to put him in charge of ground troops, working closer with Mustang. But Hawkeye insisted on Breda. Then she requested a spotter, a second set of eyes. There’d be no argument since Mustang would accommodate any requests of his First Lieutenant. So, what caused all this? He gave Hayate cheese. Cheese made Hawkeye’s dog gassy. Not only that, but he continued to give him cheese even after Hawkeye told him not to. When it came to this game, it was a kick to Havoc’s ego to tell him he was now designated to her spotter and not to lead point on the field. They may lose, but it’d be because of a couple of slices of cheese.

                _I wonder if Colonel knows,_ He thought. _I’m sure he knows. He wouldn’t allow a possible loss if he knew._ Havoc stretched his neck towards another small group of “enemy” soldiers. “Hawkeye,” he muttered. “You see those men over there.” He pointed towards a trench.

                “We expected trenches,” she grumped. “If they go into the heavier forest, we’d lose sight of them, and we couldn’t help them. We can barely see them as it is. But if they go into the field, they’d be easily seen.” She frowned, looking at Fuery giving a quick order. “Hold positions.”

                A quick nod from the younger officer and he called onto the radio.

                Havoc pulled out a cigarette and lit is, taking in a big breath. “What are you thinking?”

                She stared at the open area ahead of them. He could tell she was thinking. Maybe she was regretting punishing Havoc and wishing Breda was here to strategically plan this out. It wasn’t that she couldn’t work this out, but it wasn’t her specialty. She was more prone to notice movement, to have an incredibly steady hand, and be level headed in the worst situations. Even now, he didn’t see sweat drip down her brow. She was calm as she evaluated possibilities.

                “Now you’re wishing you had Breda,” he snickered, trying to make her feel a bit bad.

                She only looked down at his lower position and glared. “I’m guessing you wished you wouldn’t have giving my Black Hayate cheese.”

                He slumped, pulling the cigarette from his lips and sighed. “He’s so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

                “You’re making my dog into a beggar.” She lifted the binoculars back to her eyes. “I can’t have that.”

                Fuery grinned at their argument. He had been giving Hayate scraps for months.

                “In a real situation, you wouldn’t be able to smoke either,” she sniped. “You’d give us away.”

                He instantly shot a look at her. He’d get up and forfeit his position if she told him to put his smoke out.

                Hawkeye didn’t react to him but seemed to ignore him all together. She looked to her right, then above them, and then back to the field. “I think we need to relocate.”

                Fuery looked at a map as he scratched his cheek. “Do we want to see what Colonel wants to do?”

                “No,” Havoc ran his hand through his hair. “Talking may give his position away.”

                “Still,” he tried to refute.

                “We are his eyes, he is our feet,” Hawkeye interrupted. “Breda and Mustang are relying on us.”

                “But we can’t give them enemy locations if they are in those trees.”

                Havoc continued to watch her eyes scan over the area, looking for weaknesses. He was certain that she was watching patrol patterns, looking for anything she could work with.

                “Control,” the radio broke the silence. Hawkeye didn’t flinch but Havoc jumped and looked at Fuery who answered it. “What’s going on?” It was Colonel. He was getting impatient.

                “What do I tell him?”

                Havoc answered. “Tell him there are trenches ahead that end at the tree line.”

                Fuery glanced at Hawkeye who nodded.

                He continued. “We don’t have eyes on the scene. We’re working on it.” His eyes instantly brightened up as he turned to his superior officer. “What if we had them scout out the area?”

                “They did this on purpose,” she growled. “They knew we’d be here.” She nodded with a heavy sigh. “I wonder if they can deploy a distraction.”

                “Man,” Fuery whined. “You mean sacrifice some one?”

                It wasn’t something that Mustang traditionally employed. He wasn’t about sacrificing a man for the greater good. However, this was a game. It wasn’t real life. Havoc rubbed the stubble on his chin as he began to ponder Colonel Mustang’s decision if he was in their position. Would he throw a soldier out to divert men away from their position so that the team could advance, or would he try to save his men from getting caught? Then there was Breda’s men, a little further forward. That was also uncharacteristic. Mustang had an ego. He liked to lead his troops, be at the front… Havoc had to wonder what was on the table to win the game?

                He could hear Fuery talking softly with Breda and Mustang over the radio. At the end of it, a small rock hit the back of his head and he turned to see Hawkeye waving him up. “Wake up,” she chuckled. “Dreaming about girls isn’t exactly the best pastime in a war zone.”

                “Har har.” He stuck out his tongue.

                “Havoc, I need you to go around this bend here,” she pointed to the left. “Overlook and report back what you see was far as infrastructure or trench work. They don’t have much time, so hurry.” She threw her thumb behind her. “Sergeant and I will go to a higher point.”

                He nodded and they split instantly for their own ways. If there was one thing that Havoc and Hawkeye had in common, it was they were both very sure footed and could move quietly when needed. They got along rather well since their specialty was guns. It was easy to get along with her. Many considered her a little cold at times, but Havoc always seemed to get a good laugh out of her when they were alone. And maybe at one time, he would have liked to date her. They worked so close, it was no doubt that he had feelings for her. But it was clear that that she was stern about the rules and he never asked her. In addition, it also would be fraternization. It didn’t stop the thoughts, however. Because they were so close, there were times he had to excuse himself just for brushing shoulders.

                Who was he kidding? He was a lover-boy. There were too many times that he had thought about her in a more intimate way. It took him a long time to get over that. There was a soft perfume she wore sometimes… of daisies or some summer flower… that drove him bonkers one month. She would lean over him, to his side sometimes, to go over paperwork or look over a file with him, and he’d have to lean over, putting his thick arm over his lap to prevent his erection from becoming too noticeable. She slipped once, on a freshly watered lawn, running to another department. He just happened to be passing the other way and he caught her arm. He knew then he needed to do something to get over her after that. She had smiled so gratefully up at him, yelling her thanks as she continued running. But he was frozen in his tracks, forgetting to breathe. He probably spent every second of spare time in the gym, just working off his angst. It came to a time when he and her were in the office and it just seemed to dissipate. She wasn’t like that. And he needed to be her comrade. She needed his professional companionship. He trusted her. They all did. Colonel Mustang didn’t just reap the benefits of her protection, they all did. And when it came down to the nitty-gritty, he wanted her on his team.

                His feet quickly pushed past the brush around him, feeling for good footing on the steep incline. He thought about how he wished he was on the field. Maybe if he could sneak away and get on the field and help. If he could just find the box, he could direct the team towards it. He knew Mustang wouldn’t just sacrifice some one to gain an advantage. It wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like him at all. Some one would have to do it without him knowing. If they did know the hawk’s eye was on a nearby hill watching and directing, then they’d put the box deeper in the forest. He looked up as he took another step to see if he could get a better look over the field. He strained, taking a step on a rotten log. It all happened too suddenly.

                He couldn’t even reach out to stop himself. He tried to reach out to grab something as he slid down the hill, but nothing seemed secure. He just grabbed loose sticks and moss. Bumped, scraped, and tossed, Havoc knew he was going to come out bruised and battered. He grunted loudly as he bounced off a rock and rolled. A collision with something was hard to knock the breath out of him. He was pissed. He was livid as he felt helpless, tumbling down a steeper, wetter part than all the other parts of the hill. And on top of it all, he was sure the crashing sound would alert Hawkeye and Fuery. He hoped it would. As he bounced again, falling a short fall from his path. As he fell, he felt his leg burst into pain and he growled angerly. He finally reached out and was able to grab ahold of a small, young, tree to stop him from falling further. 

                Looking immediately at his leg, which screamed in pain, he saw his pants filling full of a red warm liquid. He didn’t feel it since his leg was radiating in enough pain to question the depth of the wound. “Fuck, he screamed. “God fucking damn it!”

                “Havoc?”

                “Down here,” he called up the hill.

                “Are you okay?”

                He looked back down at his leg. There was quite a bit of blood, and his adrenaline was rushing at 100%, however, was he actually in a need of help which could jeopardize the games? He looked back up at the path of his fall.

                “Havoc?” Fuery called out this time.

                “Fucking stabbed my leg. Stupid fucking sticks.”

                He could hear them already trying to descend down to him.

                “Careful,” he called. “It’s slick.”

                “I’d say,” Fuery agreed quickly. “Don’t pull it out.”

                “Don’t have to tell me that,” he grumbled lowly.

                In a few minutes, Fuery and Hawkeye looked down the cliffside. “Ouch,” Fuery flinched at the sight of his superior. “That’s quite the tumble.”

                “Come on,” She said gently, hoping down the short fall to him. “Wow,” she gasped as his wound came into full view. His hand was clasped hard over the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.

                The younger officer pointed to a broken branch, rough and pointed out of the dirt wall they jumped down. “I’m guessing you hit that.”

                Hawkeye waved at Fuery. “Help me here,” she pushed at Havoc’s chest, which he was happy to just lean back and bite his fist in pain.

                “Easy,” he growled.

                “Oh, shut up,” she replied. He didn’t look up as he felt her pull at his pant leg. The injury was almost to his hip, high on his leg. He did look up when he heard his pant leg rip and the cool air on his skin.

                “Whoa! What are you doing?”

                Fuery pushed back on his chest. “We have to see the wound,” he exclaimed.

                Havoc didn’t let him be pushed back this time. All he could see what Hawkeye ripping his pants up his leg, all the way to his …. “That’s a little far!” _Though this would be way hot if I wasn’t in so much fucking pain._

                She glared at him. “We should have just taken your pants off, Havoc, instead of cutting them up.”

                He stopped, blushing bright red as he thought about taking his pants off in front of Riza Hawkeye. He could object. But he was in so much pain, he shouldn’t even complain.

                “That’s not that bad,” Fuery then laughed.

                “Hand me some gauze and a wrap,” he heard Hawkeye order. He could feel her flush it with water, her fingers brushing the wound free of debris. Havoc couldn’t help but let out an involuntary hiss. “Well,” she said coldly. “You shouldn’t have slipped.”

                “Yeah,” he quickly snapped back. “Because I tried to do this to myself.”

                She continued to glare. “Fuery, run back up there and find a medic. There should be one by the command center.”

                The communications officer nodded and took off.

                “Don’t slip,” Havoc joked loudly.

                “See,” she grinned. “You’re fine.”

                But he wasn’t fine. Now he and Hawkeye were alone. She told him to roll to the side as she continued to expose his leg to wrap it. She was going to have to run the bandage right into his inner thigh… his upper inner thigh. He felt her pour water over it again. He wanted to say something to her, but every time he looked, his leg was still bleeding, and she was focusing on putting pressure on it. What was he supposed to say? Sorry for my arousal? You’re making me uncomfortable? What about, just let me bleed to death. His head dropped to the ground as he went through scenarios in his head. 

                “You’ve got to lift your leg so I can wrap this.”

                His face turned red again. “Can we not?”

                “Don’t do this bullshit guy thing.”

                Havoc’s head popped up, eyes wide. “What does that even mean?”

                “You know what I mean!” She pointed to his exposed leg. “Yes, I’m going to touch you where you don’t want to be touched. But if I don’t wrap it, it’s going to have a higher chance of getting infected.”

                Havoc felt his face flush. His hand reached down, cupping himself and moving to it the side. He then lifted his leg obediently, closing his eyes. If he can’t see it, then it didn’t happen. But he could feel her steady hands, brushing against his hand, as it wrapped tightly around his leg.

                “Though I like your red underwear,” she snickered.

                He could tell she was trying to be funny, to lighten the mood. He chuckled back but was even more embarrassed now. He just wanted the medics to get there and pull him off the field, saving his dignity, or what was left of it.

                Hawkeye sat next to him and dusted herself off. They could hear movement coming up to them. It was still too early for the medics. That meant that troops from the other side were coming to get them, putting them out of the game. “Now, you’re going to be embarrassed,” she laughed.

                Havoc realized something though, as they lifted their hands to be taken captive. She was level-headed and calm the entire time. And if the tables were turned, he knew that he wouldn’t have flinched to take off one of her garments to get to a wound. He wouldn’t have even been thinking of her sexually. It was to help each other, to be part of a stronger team. Mustang’s group of trusted officers were close to him as they were each other, and he had to wonder if there were other teams that were close like this.

                When they did get back to the medic’s tent, they found out that they had caused the distraction that was needed. Breda and three of his men had found the box. They passed the flag to Mustang and a few other men who high tailed it back to their rally point, winning. “Maybe you getting your leg banged up wasn’t that bad,” Hawkeye grinned, standing over him. “Though it looks like it’s going to bruise pretty badly.” She lightly punched him the shoulder. “I should know, I saw it.”

                Okay, maybe she was going to give him shit for it.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a good laugh. A LONG chapter for sure. But I hope it was worth it. Poor Havoc though. I'm enjoying the interaction between Hawkeye and each one of his team members. Still got a few more to go. And I still have a few more 1st kisses stories to put up. I apologize for putting them out of order. I can't decide if I want to finish the interactions with Hawkeye or if I want to post about the 1st kisses first. So many options!
> 
> Thank you for being a reader! I hope that you are enjoying these short snips!


	16. His Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al and Mei's "first kiss." He finally arrives in Xing and she has some big expectations for him to meet.

                In the few years that they were apart, she had grown, and she expected the same of him. She dreamed of him, wrote him every week, and was anxious for his impending arrival. Of course, he had other business to attend to with his brother and family, but he promised that he’d be there. So, she waited. And waited. And waited. Then, the letter arrived saying that he was in East City, visiting General Mustang and Captain Hawkeye. He’d see her soon. Her fingers brushed the paper lightly, almost feeling his admiration of her. They were long lost lovers being reunited after so long. It was a sappy romance story, but she’d be happy to live it. He wrote that they’d arrive and visit Ling for only a few days, and he’d be on his way to see her. However, he made it sound like he didn’t want her to meet him in the capital. It was off-putting. Odd that he didn’t want to see her first thing, but her heart screamed of how wonderful it was going to be that he wanted to be “alone” with her. (It wasn’t alone considering her staff and family.)

                She waited, counting the days. She arrived word, sent word by Ling himself, that Alphonse had made it and that he’d be on his way in three days’ time. The horse-rider would have ridden a day, maybe a half a day… So, she hoped that he was only three days away. (Two remaining with Ling, and one traveling.) It was still too long. Her closest servant and confidant soothed her anxiety, saying that the closer he was, the longer the hour. “Patience rewards the deepest of love,” she’d say. It didn’t matter. She sat by the door, overlooking her courtyard, her road, waiting to see him ride in on a high stallion. She envisioned him in their traditional garb, tall and handsome of course, and an expert rider. His horse would rear up upon arrival as he called out her name. He’d sweep her off her feet, (He’d be clearly taller than her) and kiss her passionately. With her in arms, he’d carry her into the home to find a quiet and secluded place to whisper his love to her. Mei blushed. She was still young; however, it was expected of a woman to marry young; to find love and produce children young. Ling was able to announce that she was not expected to, and her family would be forced to wait for Al’s arrival. Only Ling could announce this, claiming boldly that she was betrothed. She was sure that it was Al’s doing in his own letters to Emperor Ling.

                Then the third day came. She didn’t even eat she was so excited. Mei and her panda Xiao Mei went to the garden, meditated, and then went to cleanse herself. She made sure that she used the richest perfumes, the flower baths, and wore that best tones for her outfit. Her hair was pulled up, wrapped pretty and out of the way so that he would be able to see her face. Then she waited. And waited. And waited. She took another walk in her gardens, but the koi and blossoms did not soothe her anxiety. She ordered a guard to retrieve her at the earliest moment of his arrival. Still nothing. Her servants call her in for lunch, but she was not hungry. She stopped for tea time, eating little as she looked out the window. Still, no outline of any arrivals to her court. Her heart grew heavy. It wasn’t that she doubted his arrival, but instead of distress. She was tempted to send soldiers to find him, to ensure he was not overtaken by thieves.

                Then he came. A soldier ran into the palace, small as it may be, and approached her with heavy breath and a deep bow. “My lady,” he gasped. “He has arrived.”

                Mei and Xiao Mei jumped up with a squeal of excitement and hurried as fast as she could to the entrance. Her servants followed, beaconing her to slow down or she’d trip, tear her dress, or whatever else she chose to ignore. She wanted to be there when he came in. As she walked through the stone arch, she saw five horses trot up to the front. Her heart leaped into her throat as she noticed a certain blonde head and heard a familiar chuckle. But it didn’t seem like he saw her just yet. She began to wonder if she had changed so much that he wouldn’t recognize her. Would he still think she was beautiful? Mei’s stomach tightened, aching with the ideas that suddenly Alphonse would not love her.

                But it was not true.

                He hopped off the horse, petting its face as he laughed with a guard about taking it. One of the bodyguards, sent from Ling, translated that Al wanted the horse to be well taken care of, that it had been with him since Youswell. It was not only heartwarming but incredibly beautiful to her that he was passionate about animals. Her legs held her in place, shaking with tension, ready to spring towards him the second he looked towards her. And it seemed like forever. Every second that he did not look in her direction felt longer than all the hours and days she had waited before. Finally, she couldn’t help it any longer.

                “Alphonse!” She screamed.

                His head shot towards her. He had a gentle smile and his eyes squinted as he saw her. She didn’t even feel the quick steps that it took to him. It felt as if she flew with great energy towards him, stopping only when her smaller body collided with his thin form. She jumped high enough that her arms wrapped around his neck.  She heard the air being forced from his lungs with an “oaf.” But his arms quickly wrapped around her, holding her up, so close in an embrace. He twirled her about, being careful to step away from the horses as he did so. He smelled like the cedar of the forest in which he passed through, and his arms and neck were tan from the traveling. She could feel his hands hold her tightly, large hands, long arms, as she’d imagined. Like that day years ago, they were still protective arms, loving hands, that were meant only for her. His hair was shorter, but it was his boyish grin that confirmed her assumption that it was indeed Alphonse. She was sure she even heard a happy hum.

                “Finally,” he laughed easily, clearly taken aback by her surprise attack.

                He went to say something else, but she stopped him. She pulled from the embrace to plant her lips on his. Although it may have been completely inappropriate to her servants and culture, she disregarded all of it. She pressed firmly against his and it was her turn to feel the air in her lungs escape with force. There as no sound, no fireworks even, just them connected by emotional expression. In that second, they were one. She felt their energies merge, swirling around them, dancing in perfect harmony. It felt so natural, so right. She pulled back to take in a breath, and blush at her spontaneous decision.

                “Well,” she saw Al blush. “I’m starting to like this culture more and more.”

                She giggled as he leaned to kiss her again. This time it was softer, shorter, sweeter. He set her down gently on the ground, holding her hand as she turned to face her staff. “Meet Alphonse,” she introduced. He gave a gentle and shy wave, still red from her greeting. Xiao Mei squeaked as it hopped from inside the courtyard, happily dashing her own way to him, climbing quickly up his arm, hugging his shoulder rather affectionately. Truly, Mei could love him no more if her beloved panda adored him. Xiao Mei continued with her happy noises as she held onto him, while Mei pulled at him to the homestead. She planned on showing him everything, all at once. And as she entered the gardens, he stopped and pulled her back into him.

                She could hear as he smelled her, taking a deep breath in by her ear. “I’ve waited too long to smell you,” he whispered. “To feel you…” His hands ran smoothly down her bare arms, tickling the little hairs. “To…” Before she could even giggle a response, he bent down, kissing her again.

                Mei’s entire imaginary scenario was completely wrong. It didn’t happen. None of it happened. It didn’t matter. He was still as handsome as the first day she saw him, physically or not. He was passionate, and luckily a great kisser. He was still everything she remembered about him. And that, in itself, was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWWW It's so freaking cute! The two are romantics at heart and adorable. There is one more story to my "1st Kiss" series. I'm debating to post that one before anything else. Maybe I will do another interaction of Hawkeye and the Team and then another kiss one. I don't know. Haha What do all of you think? 
> 
> Thank you for being readers! I hope that you enjoyed it!


	17. The one he couldn't have

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Riza kiss, what Roy considers their first real kiss.

                Roy knew he was in trouble the second their lips met. But he didn’t seem to necessarily care. Nothing seemed to matter. And his intoxication was no excuse. He was not intoxicated enough to make it an excuse, and neither was she. The consequences were high if she was to say anything. Why would she? Wasn’t she with him till the end? That was probably why she was kissing him back. That was probably why her arms were wrapped around his neck pulling him inward and against the door, not on his chest pushing him away. Their bodies were so close and so tense. He always imagined it a bit different.

                Days he had sat at his desk and watched her work, wishing to taste her, to slip his tongue into her mouth, to run his hands up and down her body feeling the heat radiate off her, and to hear her moan happily and welcomingly. Perhaps it was because she was the only woman that he couldn't have. Any woman in East City would be happy to date the Flame Alchemist. Any of them would be happy to go home with him. But _she_ was off limits. It was unreal of how it was happening now. Now. Now he had his hands on her waist, his hips against hers grinding with his lips in a passionate mess. Now he was hearing or thought he was hearing, a slight moan while their lips slipped, opening so that his tongue could enter. It was as arousing and intoxicated as he had ever dreamed. And here he was.

                And nothing else did seem to matter. He could blame the alcohol for that. The fact that he was intoxicated enough that irrational decisions were being made and he didn’t seem to care. The fact that it was a business trip, or that it was against her door, or even that anyone could see them, recognize them, report them didn’t seem to give him any consequence. He figured he’d deal with it then. Right now, at that moment, he had to have more of her. And to think that it was all over telling her how beautiful she was.

                “Do you tell all your beautiful woman that?”

                “No,” his voice low and deep. “Only ones I want to kiss.”

                “You want to kiss me?”

                It was similar to the moment when they were kids. He gave her a flower when she was feeling sad. He told her that he wanted to kiss her, and she responded the same. But he never considered that a first kiss with Riza Hawkeye. It wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t demanding and expressive. It was a kiss of sympathy.

                “I do,” he responded quietly as his face grew closer to hers, his voice deep and hoarse. And she still didn’t push him away.

                “Why?” He saw a slight smile of her, a curl of her lips, alluring him.

                “Because you’re so damn beautiful.”

                His hands grabbed her face as his lips tenderly pressed against her lips, his tongue rubbing lightly over her lower lip. She bit at his upper lip, feeling his hands fall down to her hips as he pulled himself closer to her. They parted for air and he refused to pull away completely, leaning his forehead against hers. “Is it everything you dreamed?” Of course, she'd know that he'd already wanted her. 

                He could only chuckle. “I think we’re going to have to try again.”

                He felt her hands now drifting down to his chest and he felt the air empty from his lungs, his stomach growing tight. Now it was over. She had enough of his bullshit. Roy worried that she’d feel like any other of his girlfriends when in fact she wasn’t like any of them. She was so far above them that he found his match, he found the one he wasn’t good enough for. Roy tentatively stepped back but her hands grasped his jacket and forced him back against her. It was her turn to press her lips against his. Her nose pressed against his as their lips slipped and their faces turned naturally against each other. He didn’t stumble back in a moment of surprise as she did. He jumped forward, pressing her with a thud against the inn’s door. Her door. And how much he desperately wanted in that door. Why were they not in that door? He was so limited in his touches and his kisses by this damn door.

                Roy felt her teeth grab his lower lip when he stopped for air, a heavy gasp, and a tug back from her bite. She sucked roughly, his bottom lip slipping between hers. The groan in his chest was completely involuntary. Blood was rushing below his belt as he pressed his hardness against her leg and pressed her roughly against the door. This time she gasped, moaning softly as she exhaled. _She moaned_. Oh, how she moaned. It was all going to his head. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted his tongue to remain against hers for the rest of the night. He wanted to smell her sweat, feel her shutter, and hear that moan over and over.

                There was no sense of time and when she did push against him, he was lost in the amount of time that he was against her. He was vulnerable, unaware of his surroundings, and his personal guard was down. She was welcome to undress him, to strip him bare of his metals and his stars. She could decide to scratch her fingernails down his chest or send him away. If it was to be, he’d let her tie him up, pleasure herself over him, and leave him till morning, and he’d accept that. He was hers and at her will. And it was all from this half-drunken kiss that was never meant to be. The thoughts, the feelings, the _kiss_ , was never going to go away, and he knew that.

                Roy pressed against her again, deciding to demand more of her attention. Blowing his hot breath, and feeling hers against him, their chests heaved. Her damn lips brushed against his again and he felt his knees shake. No woman ever had made his body fail, his knees quiver, and his heart beat so rapidly. Then her damn nose nuzzled his. He blew it all to the wind as his lips overcame hers. Her grip was tight on his side, but only one hand. He stopped slowly to look where there was an uneasy distraction. She was unlocking her door. He grinned into the kiss. They were going to go in. She was going to let him in. Maybe her own walls would crumble, and he could release her in forms of holy euphoria and heavenly orgasm. The door opened and she slipped inside the small opening, her lips parting form his in slow motion, breathing her last gasp into his waiting mouth. He stepped forward rather dominantly, his chest puffed and his shoulders wide. And yet, it was her trigger finger that stopped him pressed against his heart. Just her finger. Why her finger?

                “Why,” he whined, his body now sagging as he leaned against the doorway, looking into her room, her gorgeous form blocking his way. He did debate overpowering her, but he worried she’d overpower him and he’d find himself in an alley somewhere naked and alone. His arm held him up, resting above his head as he wore a confident grin. “Is there something wrong?”

                Her finger carefully pushed up against his shirt, her hand extending till it reached the based of his neck. It felt as if all the blood from his body had rushed to his groin. “Roy,” she whispered with a smirk, a seductive and alluring smirk. “You know we can’t do this.”

                His tongue passed his bottom lip, relishing in the last of her taste on it. “But we both want it?” They both _needed_ it. 

                She wouldn’t even answer as she continued to smirk. “Good night, Colonel,” she paused to look him up and down, shaking her head disappointedly. He could tell she was so disappointed. But damn if she was ever the voice of reason. He stayed in the doorway, letting himself come back to Earth, regaining his dignity as an Officer in the Amestrian Army. There was hope that she’d still open the door, pull him in, and use him liked he dreamed. But he could only hear her hum as she walked around. Now she was humming. With his room next to hers, he was going to hear her hum till his body gave way and his eyes closed till morning.

                Roy stood up, rolling his shoulders back and took the few steps to his own door. He took only last look at her door before stepping inside. Indeed, the humming was heard beyond their joint wall. There wasn’t anger from her denying him, but instead an intense release of oxytocin. Laying in his bed in his boxers was going to do nothing for him. He would close his eyes and finish himself off, still thinking of that seductive smirk, that slight curl of her lips. That memory of her would never go away. Roy knew when he did return back to his desk, she’d be professional without any tease of this night. But he’d be lost in the memory with no collection of the present. It wasn’t fair, but he’d endure it if only he could kiss her again.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of the kisses series. Don't worry. There are more kisses coming up. And I know that Riza and Roy probably did kiss before this, but it was a cute scene in my head anyway. Now... back to Team Mustang and Riza! Stay Tuned!


	18. The Secret Keeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Falman and Hawkeye are following a suspect. Of course, there is a conversation and some bonding. But Falman knows a secret that no one else knows, or should know.

                “You know,” she sighed as she rubbed her forehead. “I thought doing these would be a good habit. Maybe I’d learn something, or sharpen my mind… I’m beginning to hate them.”

                The tall man next to her, greyish hair on top with dark hair at the base of his head, slanted eyes, and a genuine smile, chuckled. It wasn’t very often that he was privileged with the only female officer in their team solo company. “Sometimes they aren’t for everyone," He replied with a soft tone. He could have, like other members of the team, been snarky or even boastful, but he wasn't. He instead felt some admiration for the lieutenant of even trying to finish a crossword puzzle, to begin with. However, Falman could see the frustration of his colleague. It was a rare sight. She was normally composed. It was something that he’d note. She wasn’t as stone cold as people assumed. He’d seen her joyous on numerous occasions. He knew that she enjoyed a good mystery novel on colder, rainy days. He also knew that on her best days, she could fire six rounds from her service weapon in 1.86 seconds, all hitting one target. He knew she secretly liked the color purple, and that she did not like white. Falman also knew her biggest pet peeve in the office was the tapping of a pencil, although she had the habit of humming on sunny days. He knew her more as Riza Hawkeye, not the cold lieutenant that many others assumed she was. 

                “I need a new hobby.”

                He continued to chuckle as he watched the crowd. There was a specific reason why he was there, and he took it seriously. He and his superior officer weren’t just having tea for pleasure and relaxation. Work tended to overrule those privileges. He was initially surprised when she casually approached him and invited him to lunch. But the secrecy of the investigation caused her to inform him of the details at the last second. Falman felt almost honored that she’d consider him over Breda or even their fearless commander. Mustang was not a man who leads from behind. And with Lieutenant Hawkeye and Colonel Mustang, there was a reason for everything. He was aware of the case, one that he was lead on at one point, but he was not expected to join them on any encounter or recognizance. He wasn't that guy of the team. This was out of his specialty and he wondered what they had up their sleeves. 

                Hawkeye tossed the paper on the table and leaned down to pet her black dog at her feet. Falman enjoyed the dog, though he knew it was the bane of Breda's existence. It wasn't every day the dog was allowed in the office, but she had a habit of keeping him under her desk and out of Breda's sight. Of course, Colonel allowed it. If Hawkeye didn't have such a soft spot for her canine, Mustang sure did. And Hayate added to their cover as well as alert them to impending dangers. “I guess it’s just not my cup of tea.” She then sat back in her chair and glanced around. She picked up her cup, sipping just enough of her fragrant tea to get her a smile of appreciation. He’d note that too. He could smell the hibiscus and citrus. He could tell she particularly enjoyed it by the slight smile that grew gently on her lips as she tasted it and the silent sigh of pleasure from the smell. He noticed things like this. Come the seasons, it’d be a good gift.

                “Is it from today’s paper?” He took the paper and looked at her progress. “Oh, you have done quite well,” he praised. “You have done almost half of it.” He checked her work. “These kinds of puzzles take time. Most of the answers are repetitive.”

                “I think out of all of us, you enjoy them the most.” She grinned at him, looking at him from the side as she scanned the crowd again. 

                It was a light joking comment and he knew she meant to malice by it. “We all have our own skill set,” he attempted to comfort. “Breda is a strategist.”

                She laughed. “I’m fine being good at petting Hayate.” But she was good at so much more. She was excellent at keeping the Colonel on his toes, remembering where he slept, and she knew what everyone liked to eat on Friday's lunch menu. If she couldn't do crosswords, she could remember maps, where she'd been, and specific instructions to the mission. She was great at everything she did, and he was no doubt a tad bit surprised to find something she wasn't good at. It made him wonder. The only other thing he'd never seen her do was cook, and he began to think of any other skill set he was not familiar to her expertise. 

                They both laughed and she took another sip of her tea. “Oh, your stats speak for themselves. There is no doubt why Colonel Mustang favors you.” He grinned at his partner.

                She waved him off with a gentle smile. Something caught her eye and she turned her head to look. Falman followed her gaze, knowing that her sniper's eye had caught exactly what she was looking for, and followed her gaze. “For a loyal officer, and one who is fearless…”

                “Fearless,” he joked. Falman knew she was speaking of him. He had never been put in the situation which he could be considered _fearless_. It amused him that she'd even say that. “There he is…” He nodded as he picked up the paper and imitated reading it. “Just as the description says.”

                He watched as Lieutenant Hawkeye’ eyes followed him through the crowd. “I think it’s time to move.” She said it almost lightly as if she was excusing herself from the table as a lady would. But he knew better. She was gearing up for some exciting tracking, the pursuit of the beast, the hunt. 

                Falman knew she was good at investigating, but it wasn't her forte. She was excellent at remembering how many steps, in which direction, addresses, profiles, and even names. She was a soldier, a fighter, not an investigator. He was. But this wasn't an investigation. The case was solved. There was little reason she’d need him with her. They were there just to capture him at the right time and place. And as they moved in the crowd, she looped her hand around his arm with Black Hayate’s leash in the other. He blushed a little, not thinking too deeply on it. It was more obvious than not that everyone at some point had a crush on the lieutenant. And they all knew she was off limits. This also meant that close contact with her was limited. He knew it was part of the mission, and it wasn't flirtatious. He could see the man had several bodyguards, many of which were looking intently at their own surroundings. It was part of their cover, their disguise. He watched, taking note of anything and everything that went on. 

                “Do you know why we wanted you along?” He felt her lean into his shoulder, holding his arm tighter.

                He shook his head as he tried not to think about how close they were. Falman was easily embarrassed. He wasn't insecure like Fullmetal, or needy like Havoc, but he did blush easily even if the flirt wasn't intentional. 

                “Because you’re good at interrogation.” She nudged him with a grin, and he looked at her curiously. That was an interesting topic for him. He was good at it, but he had never heard anyone mention anything about it. He enjoyed it, took pride in seeing tell tale signs, and manipulating criminals into pleading guilty. Because that is what it was. Manipulation. He knew all the details, and he knew weak points. He knew body language and weak tones of the voice. He knew because he was attracted to detail, and had a sharp memory. “When we do catch this guy, we need you to find out where he’s hiding the women and what train they are departing on.”

                “Do you really think he’s going to tell us?” In truth, Falman had little faith that the man was going to tell them anything even if he had a go at him at the jail's interrogation room. He was making too much money shipping children and women out of the country to be sold. He looked down to see her nod. “If you believe in me, I will do my best.” He did know all the information, all the details of the reports and evidence leading to this case. That’s why he’d be good at interrogating. He chuckled to himself. There was always a reason to Hawkeye and Mustang's madness. He was along to remember everything to use later and in court. 

                They followed casually, in no hurry. At one point he saw Fuery, and at another point, he saw Havoc, so he knew they were not alone. They were there to watch for the signal, for Colonel to signal for the arrest. They couldn't make an arrest in a crowded place like this. There were too many escape points. And, the police paid the suspects no mind. They were not even aware of the scene that could unfold in a mere second. She made small talk, smiling and leaning into him when a guard seemed to look their way. Then he casually brought up how she would have fit better with Mustang than him since they worked so nicely together. They'd done missions like this before. They worked well as a team. It was just odd that she was with him. When he looked down at her, he saw her eyebrow raise a curious look of the eye from a side glance.

                “Why would you say that?” Funny because this was an interrogation. It was simple ways to get a rise out of someone. But she didn't fall for it. She didn't squeak, or her words rush together as if she was embarrassed or trapped. He was even sure that her heart didn't skip a beat. She was cool under this kind of pressure and it impressed him. 

                “You two are always together,” he said easily. “It’s no secret what you two are up to.”

                She stopped and turned to face him. “What do you know?” She wasn’t threatening but sounded more curious. He saw her brown eyes sparkle and her mouth parted with a grin just slightly. She was interested in his answer.

                “You smell like him,” Falman said slowly. He didn't want to scare her away, or even worse, be on the wrong side of her pistol. If anything at all, Colonel Mustang would court-martial him for some ridiculous thing or blackmail him to stay quiet. But Falman continued when he noticed that she made no signs of anger. “Especially when you two make plans to go to your usual dinner once a month.”

                “I smell like him?” Hawkeye tilted her head, giving her first tell away. She was surprised, and he had now given himself away as well. How would he know what either smelled like? It was embarrassing on both ends he supposed. 

                Falman nodded. He was really hoping she wasn’t going to get angry at his simple observations. “And… And he puts notes in your upper left drawer.” Well, he was already in the hole, he admitted to himself. He might as well fill it in.

                She held her hip and leaned to the side, now looking very amused. Amused! He was seeing things that weren't supposed to be noticed. So he continued to admit his gathered information.

                “You two talk in obvious code.”

                There was a short pause after this one, and he watched as her tongue rubbed her back teeth as she thought. Then her tongue slipped over her bottom lip before she chuckled and looked away. She was caught red-handed. “Of course we do,” she grinned. Hawkeye then looked down and shook her head. 

                But Falman had the topping on the cake, the thick frosting that no one else knew. He could have not let her know, could have let it be. But he was already getting a good rise from her, he couldn't help but be interested in her next reaction. “But I’ve broken it.”

                He saw her freeze, the color drain from her face, suddenly looking exposed. Bingo. It was everything that he knew. It was the biggest secret of the office, and he had indeed cracked it. This whole time he had kept it to himself, watched and amused himself in their little antics. But like a child getting caught, she could not hold back the fear of such a secret being exposed. He knew her mind was rushing through the possibilities and weaknesses of their communications. She wanted to know where they failed, he could see it. He almost felt as if he should tell her how he figured it out but decided against it. 

                He laughed easily, looking up at the target who was gaining distance. “Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I’m not going to say anything.” He nodded to indicate they should continue walking.  “As you said, I’m too loyal.” It was his turn to act casual and to cover his own tracks. After all, a good interviewer never let the interviewee see his own weakness. 

                Even as they walked, he noticed how she was thinking with her brows tightly scrunched and her stare more devoted. As they turned a corner, she noticed that a guard had turned and was glancing at the crowd. They stopped and he looked away looking as if he was amused in something else. He started laughing gently as he noticed Fuery standing on a box so he could see over the crowd. When he looked back at her, waiting for her signal to continue pursuing, she looked up at him. There was a clear emotion of trust in her eyes as she smiled, showing just a little glance of her teeth, letting the laugh escape openly. “I chose you,” she grinned. “Mustang had no part in it. He asked who I wanted to take, and I said you.”

                He tilted his head, now interested in her explanation.

                “What Mustang and I have can never be known to any higher-ups. And I trust you completely to keep that secret.” She reached over to a stand and picked up a bright red apple.

                He attempted to say something, but she raised her hand to stop him.  “I think I’m going to recommend that you work with Fuery once in a while to decode some transmissions.” He felt her hand squeeze his arm. "You are better at solving problems anyway."

                “That I do want to know,” he looked up and started walking again. “Why would you and he ever want to seek information on the generals? That’s close to treason.” Falman wanted to look down at her to see her expression this time but was too busy watching the suspect weave in and out the of the market. There was a long span of silence. The noise of the market boomed around them.

                Finally, she spoke, and almost too quiet in the chaos to hear. “We… All of us have been hand picked by Mustang to change the military within. He and I will not stand by and allow the abuse and use of the men below us.”               

                “He will protect us so we can protect the ones below us,” Falman muttered. “It makes sense now.”

                “I figured you knew.”

                “I had my suspicions.”

                “Looks like you are our secrets keepers.”

                He puffed out his chest with a deep breath of air. “I’m honored,” he nodded.

                She bought a loaf of bread, some apples, and stopped to look at some steaks. After all, she joked, Hayate had to eat. He’d tell her when they weren’t looking anymore and that they could follow again through the market. It was when they turned down a side street that their cover was vaguer. It would be clear that they were following them when a mostly empty street. When it seemed the gig was up and Falman and Hawkeye were noticed, the Colonel stepped out and blocked the path declaring the smuggler's defeat. He demanded their surrender. She let go of his arm and in an instant had drawn her pistol. She stood still, a perfect shooting position, one that had been practiced and toned, as the men kneeled and put their hands up. “Your turn,” she smirked, looking up at him. "Have fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW, the record from a revolver for the fastest rounds shot was 6 rounds in 1 second, held by a Mr. Jerry Miculek. (Last I heard.)
> 
> I had lots of fun writing this. I don't think Falman gets that much attention. His turn with Riza was enjoyable. I hope that you enjoyed it too! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	19. The Moment Before...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sexual references here. Light smut but nothing I suppose you have to fear. But it's cute, I promise. Leading up to the moment of Parenthood for Mr. & Mrs. Elric.

                 The sun was rising over the green fields, and normally she’d rise with it. That morning was different. Her husband had very different ideas. His lips kissed her shoulder, gently sucking on her skin, down and up her arm. She’d been more comfortable sleeping on her side lately which made it incredibly easy for him to hold her and kiss her, smell her, in the morning. He’d rather do that instead of waking up and getting ready for the day. His fingers glided down her naked side as he remembered touching her the same way before their eyes shut with the rise of the moon. It was still fresh and detailed to the last labored breath in his mind. His fingers glided up her side, taking a moment to graze her side boob. Since they were enlarged, he was taking extra enjoyment from them.

                She hummed in subconsciously in pleasure with a heavy exhale. She then wiggled into his warmth. It didn’t help his arousal. He wrapped his arms around her chest, pulling her tightly against him, flexing his pelvis against her rear. The tender nakedness between them was a buzz. All the hormones that expelled, that erupted in their final kisses before their bodies collapsed, still lingered. He rubbed his nose along her hairline, behind her ear, smelling her gently. Since the pregnancy, it seemed to him that she smelled sweet, like spring flowers, but of sunshine, if sunshine could smell. He, the moon, held in his hands the sun in a tight embrace. It was in these early hours that she was his, with no objections or obstacles.

                Edward moved her hair to the side, exposing her the back of her neck so that he could kiss that too. His hands brushed down her side as far as his arm allowed, down the outside of her leg. Winry shifted as she smiled, letting a quiet giggle escape. It rolled to her inner thigh and up her leg, brushing against her unguarded private. It didn’t linger. No, his fingers desired every inch of her. Touching the sun was a delicate and timed matter. If he stopped for too long, she’d grow bored and dance away from him.

                “Ed,” she breathed, arching her back against him, giving him clear evidence that his caresses were arousing her just as it was him. He felt her rub against him again, pressing hard as her back arched. He groaned as he pressed back against her. “Ed,” she whispered again.

                He allowed his lips to brush against her ear as their bodies sealed together in intimacy. “Good morning, Win. How is my love this morning?” He pressed against her again.

                Winry leaned her head back, turning it to give him a side kiss with a tired smile, clear of satisfaction. “Uncomfortable,” she admitted with a tender chuckled.

                “I do suppose that’s my fault,” he replied quietly. “What can I do to help you?” He spoke so softly, gentle and warm against her cheek. The concern flowed with the warmth, quiet and smooth like his fingers on her skin.

                He felt her shrug against him, and she pressed her back against him and rubbed against his erection again. “If I knew, I probably wouldn’t be so uncomfortable.”

                She didn’t run through. The sun stayed with the moon, to hold in serene essence. Even when his hand stopped to hold her stomach, to feel movement within, and to let his heart stop, she did not escape to rise. He was thankful for it. Their breathing was in uniform, relaxed and quiet as they feared disturbing the air in the room. And he didn’t know how long they could have sat there for. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. His stomach rumbled, and his leg seemed to ache with his position, but his body involuntarily clung to his wife. This moment was soon to be discontinued. They’d continue to keep some pre-parent lifestyle, they both knew that it was going to end soon. Soon, priorities would surround the new love in the house, and attention to each other would be put aside for a moment or two to allow the new addition to their family to fall into a routine. He was excited, and at the same time very fearful.

                “Edward,” she whined as her body tightened.

                “What?”

                “I got to get up.” He felt her flex forward, breathing heavily. Normally she would get up right away to pee. His child had already declared his obstinacy by kicking his mother’s bladder. But this seemed different.

                “Is it a contraction?” Ed sat up, concerned, putting his hand on her hip as he leaned over her. He saw her face scrunch up and then relax as she fought to catch her breath. “Maybe it’s time to take you to the doctor?”

                Winry nodded slowly.

                Just the opposite of the morning’s previous energy, Edward shot from the bed, struggling to pull his pants on. He was still buttoning them up as he ran into the closet and pulled out clothes for her. He tossed them on the bed and grabbed a shirt for himself. She sure looked amused when she watched him, waiting for him to help her and bracing through another contraction. They’d gone over some planning. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing. But no one can really prepare for a moment like this. As soon as he stopped and reached out to help her, his movements and face grew incredibly gentle. “Are you ready for this?” He took a deep breath, kissing her on her head. “Because I’m not sure I am.”

                He watched as she smiled back and took a deep breath. “If anyone is ready, it’s going to be you. Now help me up so I can pee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, I have 2 more Riza ones. *Shrugs*... But I wanted to get an Ed and Winry one in there. I just can't ignore them. The next one will be another Riza one. :) 
> 
> Thank you for being readers! I always appreciate you!


	20. Things I didn't know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Ed and Riza. They goe to lunch and Ed learns some things about Riza that he didn't know, and one thing about Mustang that he didn't know.

                It was about lunchtime. His stomach growled but he was resisting being distracted by it. He was determined to work this out. Al was next to him, looking through as much as he could, but it was more of a personal thing at this point. Ed was going to figure it out, and when he did, he’d shove it in that Colonel Bastard’s face.

                No doubt that it had been a hard week. He was ordered to stick around Eastern Command for a while, and he was eager to escape. He had a few leads that he wanted to explore. It didn’t help that he and Mustang were going rounds. He didn’t know why, but everything he said, Mustang wanted to argue with him. Though he did feel bad about snapping at Havoc... Havoc was just trying to be friendly to him, but Ed didn’t need anyone’s shit. That opened a whole new argument with Colonel. “You’re full of teen angst! When you decide to act like an adult, you can come back into my office!” He was tired of being held against his will. So, he kept his nose down, scribbling notes in his little book to review later when the offices closed. He’d eat something when he and Al went to the hotel. Besides, if he left the room, he was worried he'd run into Mustang and they'd start arguing again. 

                He didn’t really hear the door open, or anyone walk in. He was against the back wall, looking through two books, and comparing theories. He did hear Al greet someone and his armor clink as it came near him. But Ed didn’t look up. He didn't want any distractions and hoped that if he looked too busy, they'd decide to leave him alone. It worked occasionally with Ross. Though, it was probably Havoc, or maybe Breda, because he knew that Mustang would just leave him alone. Colonel always had some kind of control of him yet, neither wanted anything to do with each other.

                “Ed.”

                Oh, it was Lieutenant Hawkeye. It was the only authority figure that he had _not_ pissed of yet… Maybe he had and just didn’t know. She hadn't made a specific point to talk to him so it was possible she was trying to avoid confrontation as well. Ed started to wonder if she was there to chew him out too so he ignored her and flipped the page of book 1.

                “Ed,” she said again. “Have you eaten?”

                “I’ll eat later,” he dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I’m busy.”

                “Brother,” Al interjected. “I can stay here and study. You go eat. You need to get nutrition to study and be healthy.”

                “I’m fine,” He continued to argue.

                “Edward.” There was that 'adult' tone he had been harassed with while in this command center.

                Ed frowned as he looked up. She only used that tone with him when he was in trouble or when she was serious. Of course, she had a sterner tone for Colonel.

                “Let’s go to lunch,” she insisted, now using a softer tone of voice.

                “I don’t want to,” he stated again. He didn’t understand why no one would listen to him. Everyone around him was just giving him orders. And when he did just want to be alone, which resulted in everyone being happy he wasn’t around, someone had to come and demand his damn attention.

                “Go on, Ed,” Al said, grabbing a book and holding it high enough. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

                Ed jumped for it once before glaring hard at his armored brother. _Next time I think I transmute you into will be a damn toy. Something small_ , he thought angerly. “Fine, I’ll go.”

                “Come on,” Hawkeye waved. “My treat.”

                Ed leaned over, taking the notebook and putting it in his pocket. “Whatever,” he mumbled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go and get this over with.”

                She led him into town, and he couldn’t help but be more aggravated as they went. His mind was distracted by his studies, or his lack of studies. There had to be a reason behind her pulling him away. He figured she’d lecture him, maybe make excuses for Colonel being an asshole, or make him apologize to Havoc. She'd done that before. She looked down at him and told him that he was out of line, but never did it in front of Colonel. That was probably because it'd only bring great joy to the bastard to know that his dog was on his side. And Edward had to wonder if she ever told Colonel to grow up while Ed wasn't looking. But he didn’t know why he was so pissed off all the time and he couldn’t explain it. He just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to be cooped up this whole time. And it made him angrier that no one understood that. They all just wanted him to be nice and to be happy, fake. 

                “Where do you want to go?”

                Ed looked up as Hawkeye had stopped. He kicked a nearby rock and shrugged. “I don’t care. Somewhere that has food I guess.”

                “Funny,” she chuckled at his humor. “Do you like hamburgers and sandwiches? Or would you like some stew or chili?”

                He shrugged, still playing with the stones at his feet. What did it matter where they ate? It wasn’t like he wanted to be there anyway.

                “Do you like Xing food? Or maybe hot dogs?”

                “Burger is fine,” he muttered. “I don’t care.”

                He followed her some more to this nicer restaurant. It was not something that he’d expect, and not somewhere he’d go. As they sat themselves at a table, he started wondering why she picked hem. He watched as she barely looked through the menu, watching him more than her surroundings. And everything looked pricey. Hawkeye was frugal, low key, and did not normally go out. By the fact that she barely looked at the menu told him that she came here often. He looked at his menu, deciding what hamburger looked better. “How do you know about this place? Do you come here often?” Ed looked up to see her smile, almost thinking about something.

                “Yeah,” she nodded. “A friend and I usually come here,” she said gently and quietly.

                It was too simple of an answer. Obviously, it was something she didn’t want to go into. And he didn’t care about the answer. He heard the waitress come back and Hawkeye ordered her sandwich quickly while he waited to order his. Then there was silence. It was a silence that he expected. There was nothing really to talk about. Ed was sure she wanted to talk about something. Something parental, authority like. He wouldn’t have it. He’d resist the lure into the argument that she was looking for. Watching her though, she sat casually, drinking her water, as she watched the people around them. He took out his notebook and started looking through it. If he couldn’t study in the little office he had, then he’d study here.

                “What are you researching?”

                Ed didn’t look up. “Stuff.”

                She laughed at his answer and it made his shift uncomfortably. He looked up at her watching her smile gently at him. Her eyes were soft like she was thinking of a memory, her hand over her mouth from laughing. It was the same look that Winry would have when she was thinking about when they were younger. _Great_ , he thought. _Now she’s going to give me some story._  Ed didn't have time for that. He put his nose back into his book, feeling her lean over the table to see what he was looking at.

                “Why are you interested in air currents and temperatures?”

                Ed lifted his head slowly, realizing that his work was understood by the other person at the table. “You know what these mean?”

                She teetered her hand side to side. “Not really. But with my father and Mustang, I’ve seen my fair share of symbols and equations.”

                Ed continued to blink. This was completely unexpected. Riza Hawkeye specialized in guns, not alchemy. And her father was an alchemist? He didn’t know this! It brought a thousand questions to mind as he wondered why she was not an alchemist too. And he wondered what she knew of Colonel’s alchemy. Did she know it, but just didn’t use it?

                Her finger reached under his face and pointed to a scribble he had made. “Obviously you are looking at air currents here, and how to change the way air can be manipulated.” She pointed to another on the other page. “And this is temperature and humidity. This is similar to Mustang’s.”

                Ed couldn’t help but chuckle. This was such a surprise he was unsure of how to react. “Yeah,” Ed nodded. He turned the pages back a few and pointed to a sketch he had made of the Colonel’s flame alchemy’s array. It was based on memory since there was no book he could find on it. “It started when I wanted to beat Colonel at his own game.” He let a grin slip out as he looked at it.

                “How would you do that?” He didn’t hear worry in her voice like she was concerned. It was the opposite. It sounded like a friend, asking with curiosity. It wasn't a "why" but a "how." 

                He had to wonder if she'd like to see that happen. He was unsure of what to say. There was a small reminder in the back of his head that she was so close to Mustang after all. _Maybe Mustang had sent her to gather intelligence on me,_ he thought carefully. _But what harm would it be? Maybe she was just curious. If she thought that Colonel was invincible, then nothing he said would be of worrisome._   “By adding enough humidity to the air that the fire wouldn’t be as effective or not effective at all.”

                He watched her reaction. She nodded, looking like she was understanding what he was saying. She didn’t look concerned at all. She looked downright interested! “Making it damp,” she smiled excitedly. “You’re not off. But with the water in the air, you’re adding hydrogen for him to transmute and that’d make the fire stronger.”

                Wait! She was adding to his work? Not only that, but she understood what he was thinking! They were on the same page and the same thought level! And here he was under the understanding that she was just gunnery and didn’t understand this kind of stuff! “That’s what I had concluded!” It couldn’t be helped as he jumped in his seat, leaning forward.

                Her finger tapped on the table as she rubbed her chin with her other hand. “Thus, the current would mix the oxygen content enough that he couldn’t get a consistent mixture?”

                 “How do you know this?” Ed bounced a little, feeling excited. He really didn’t have anyone to talk about this with. He avoided Armstrong regularly, and he feared even bringing it up to Mustang. He’d probably just get yelled at some more. Winry didn’t understand any of it, and became rather irritated when he went off about his alchemic studies.

                “Edward,” he heard her chuckle lightly. “I’ve seen it all my life.” The waitress interrupted them for a moment to refill their drinks. “My father was an alchemist.”

                Ed’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped a little. “So, you do know alchemy?” He never knew about her past. She wasn’t one to really talk at all, let alone talked about her past or her own childhood. The only ones that ever opened up to him were Fuery and Havoc.

                His face fell into disappointment as he watched her shake her head. “No,” she sighed. “He didn’t let me study. I went to a charter school.” He watched her eyes fall to her drink, the condensation gather and drip around her fingers. “So, I never truly understood it. But he had students and so sometimes I’d overhear and learn through them. Nothing that was significant enough for me to preform it.” He could see her thinking again. It was just something he didn’t see of her. As far as Ed knew, she didn’t have remanences. She, like Mustang, was always looking forward.

                He looked back at his notes, letting her think to herself for a few moments. If she understood what he was drawing, and writing, then maybe she’d seen Colonel’s notes. Ed had looked for them before. He’d looked in libraries, and in the office, on the shelves… He’d snuck in when no one was there and went through Colonel’s desk only to find a book about girls. _Letcher_ , he thought with a roll of his eyes. But now… Now Ed had a source. If she knew just a little, he could work from that. “Then you understand flame alchemy… Do you know how it works?”

                She responded just like he thought she would. Hawkeye sat back and grinned. She must have known what he was doing. Ed was finding out she was far smarter than even he had anticipated. “Mustang keeps his alchemic formulas locked up pretty tight. I know as much as he wants me to know.”

                Ed grumped as he put his head on the table, looking back at the notebook. He could tell she knew more than she was letting on. It only aggravated him more that he was so close. “I’ve looked all over for any book on flame alchemy,” Ed sat up and cupped his chin. “There’s nothing. It’s like Colonel had it burnt,” he then laughed as he heard his own joke. “If I could learn about it, I think I can find a weakness to it.”

                “Why would you want to find a weakness? All you have to do is get a squirt bottle.”

                Ed laughed hard. It was a good laugh. He hadn’t laughed like that in a while. _Maybe she isn’t trying to figure me out_. He smirked back at her. She had a good sense of humor, and knew alchemy? What else did he not know about her? _Moreover_ , he continued to think, _maybe she’s not here to lecture me about my attitude._

                “No one is immune to weakness,” she continued. “We all have our own vulnerabilities.”

                Ed sighed as he scratched his head. There was the adult Hawkeye again. Telling him how the world worked. But she was giving him a clue. She admitted that Mustang’s alchemy wasn’t as powerful as Mustang thought it was, or as much as Ed thought it was. She was admitting that he too had a flaw. If she knew this, then she did know about Flame Alchemy. Ed figured she knew way more than she’d ever tell.

                The waitress returned with their food, but Ed slid to the side and flipped a page in his notebook. He reached for a fry and chewed it slowly. “I just…” He sighed loudly.

                “You just wanted to one-up him. To prove that you weren’t so insignificant and could be as strong as him.”

                Ed glanced up at her momentarily but didn’t respond. She did know what he was up to. He ate another fry. What would she know about it? Or, did she know that Colonel Righteous Ass was being a complete tard and dick lately?

                He heard her take a bit of her sandwich. He glanced back up to see her dab her lips gently with the napkin. There was so much he could learn from her. He didn’t really take her for the elegant type either. But she had manners. She must have lived in a nice home, with money and wealth. Or maybe that was the charter school’s teachings. He knew about those kinds of manners, but living in the country meant manners was not stealing food from another’s plate. Even in Pinako's home, she didn't enforce elbows on the table or a salad fork and a dinner fork. Ed looked back down at his book, flipping the page with his thumb as he ate another fry. “I’m tired of him thinking he’s so above all of us just because he’s got superior firepower.”

                He heard her laugh before she took a drink of her water. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

                Ed raised his eyebrow above his notebook as he looked at her. “Do you know something that I don’t?” So she did know his weakness! She knew that he wasn’t all-powerful and mighty! She knew that he could be defeated, and not just in a bucket of water kind of way. Lieutenant Hawkeye knew that there was an alchemic way to fight off the Flame Alchemist!

                “I know a lot that you don’t.” She took another drink of her water, smiling smugly at him. She was playing his game and he could tell that she had no intentions of telling him.

                Ed visibly pouted at her calm comment. _Of course_ , he thought with disappointment. “But you’re not going to tell me because he’s the one you’re supposed to protect, right Lieutenant?”

                “That’s right.” Hawkeye took another bite chewing it slowly as she looked back around the room. He continued to pout.

                “I guess that makes you a better dog than me.” He ate another fry, knowing that his comment was a little low, but he was rather disgruntled that she wouldn’t tell him more.

                “I’ll make you a deal,” she whispered as she leaned over the table. “If you tell me more about what you're studying. I’ll give you something on Mustang. Something really good.”

                Ed looked up quickly, snapping his neck in interest. Wait, was she really going to offer something about the Colonel? “Like what?” It was a good question if you asked Ed. Was she going to tell him what color of underwear Colonel wore? (As if she’d know that anyway, but the way she managed his life… she might.) Or was she going to tell him where he hid is research books?

                “Like somethingblackmaill worthy.”

                Ed hummed as he thought about it. That would be a decent trade. It wasn’t an alchemic breakthrough, but maybe he could still use it against Colonel Asshat next time they argued. “I thought you were going to protect him?”

                She shrugged as she took another bite of her sandwich, humming in satisfaction. “Eat your burger, Ed. It’s very good.”

                He looked at his hamburger, picking it up and taking a bite. He’d agree to the trade.             

                Ed slid his chair over towards her as he opened his notebook. In-between bites he walked her through his notes. He thought for a moment that maybe she was going to tell the Colonel about his studies, but as she followed along, he just felt encouraged to tell her more. She would nod, ask about things, clarifying meanings and such. Ed could tell that she understood some of it, and that she enjoyed learning about it. He had to wonder why she didn’t go into it if she was so interested. And she praised him for it. She reached out and patted his back, telling him how great he was for knowing all this “stuff.” There was admiration in her eyes as she chewed her sandwich.

                Ed finished his burger while Hawkeye finished her sandwich way before he was done. They were probably late to getting back, but she didn’t seem worried. Ed had seen her on several occasions rather ruffled over others being late from lunch, so it was another odd thing for him to observe her being so relaxed about it.

                “Not worried about getting back in time?” He grabbed his jacket as he slid his chair back.

                “Colonel was passed out when I left,” she rolled her eyes. “I figured I’d take some extra time for myself today. And I found a new lunch buddy in the process.” She smiled as she tossed some money on the table for the bill. “You do realize,” she added, “what you could do if you could alter the humidity in the air. If you got really good at it, you could make it rain over crops or dry other areas that are flooding.”

                “I’m not sure if it’d work that way,” He laughed. “But maybe I can move the air currents enough to blow enemies out of the way or something…”

                “Not everything has to be used in attacks,” Hawkeye chimed as she stood up.  

                _Of course,_ Ed mentally sighed. _So now are you going to tell me that I can’t be angry all the time too?_ He watched as she started walking towards the exit. She stepped lightly, happily even. She wasn’t scowling at him, like the others, or even looking down at him to teach him a lesson of some kind. It was just a comment.  “So, what’s this juice on Colonel?”

                He watched her snicker as they walked outside, seeing her actually get excited to tell him something. Edward could see her get a little mischievous as her lip curled on one side. She knew a secret of his… “When Mustang was younger, he really enjoyed cooking. He tried many times to apply alchemy to cooking, but I think it ended up boring him.”

                Ed didn’t even know where this was going. On one level, he had no idea that Mustang liked to cook. On another level, he was unsure how cooking was going to lead to blackmail.  

                But Hawkeye didn’t stop her story. “So, one day, he was told he needed to go kill a chicken for dinner.” She motioned with her hands, rolling her wrists to indicate the story’s progression. “He went out, chased these chickens around till he was exhausted.”

                Ed squinted at the Lieutenant. This story was awfully personal. It was almost like she was there when it happened. “How do you…”

                But she wouldn’t let him interrupt her. “Then he finally caught one. He took it over to this chopping stump and went to cut its throat.”

                Ed tilted his head as they stopped. He put his hands in his pockets and began to wonder what could this ever be? She was telling a rather descriptive story, in a way that indicated that she was there. And if she wasn’t, how was this story so secretive that Colonel Mustang didn’t want anyone to know.

                “And he couldn’t do it.”

                _Oh_! He thought. “He couldn’t kill the chicken? He likes chickens?” That is a weird thing. He thought amusingly. He knew that Mustang liked dogs, but never took him for liking chickens.

                “Well… Not exactly. He just couldn’t stand to kill a harmless animal.” Hawkeye lifted her finger.

                Ed stopped to think about that. “I had to kill a few chickens,” he muttered. “It was just part of living out in the country.” It was hard to imagine that the Hero of Ishval couldn’t kill a chicken. He had killed enough people. “So what? Was Colonel a city boy?”

                The Lieutenant only shrugged. “He always had problems killing. It wasn’t till after academy that he mentally overcame that.”

                Ed followed her in his thoughts for a block. There was one way to find out if she knew this story because she was there. “Did you kill chickens, Lieutenant?” There was always a suspicion that the two were close; closer than just military matters.

                She nodded. “I did.”

                _Okay… So she lived in the country,_ he concluded. _And she had to kill chickens. Is it even possible that …_ “Did you show him how?” Ed looked up at her, grinning at his conclusion, hoping to see her admit that they went back farther than Ishval.

                And she smiled in return. She sighed loudly, not looking down at him. “No, we just didn’t have chicken that day.”

                Ed tried not to scream and jump in victory that his conclusions were correct. He instead, held a straight face as he walked quietly next to her for the rest of the walk.

                Of course, over the next few days, Ed thought about the conversation. He had to wonder how far back the two went, and if Colonel ever knew her dad. It just seemed weird. But, his mood improved, and he lightened up on his studies. He even began hanging out in the office with everyone, even if it was for an hour or so. It’s not like he had to talk to Mustang, but he rather enjoyed Hawkeye’s company more. He even made a point to take some more notes to her and asked her opinion on them. It was worth it just to watch Colonel be mildly disappointed that he was being left out.

                At the end of the week, Mustang told Ed to get lost. He gave him some ideas of leads and told him the train to get on. Ed couldn’t have been happier. Just hours before he was going, he strolled into the office, plopping down on the couch, and put his feet up on the coffee table. He put his arms behind his head and looked around. It was obvious that his mood had greatly improved, and everyone looked at him curiously.

                “That’s not proper behavior,” Hawkeye corrected him as she swatted his feet off.

                His feet hit the floor but he didn’t argue. Instead, he reached into his pocket and produced a wooden toy chicken. “Just brought Colonel something before I left.”

                Hawkeye stopped to think about the gift for a second and Ed laughed as she rubbed her face. It was clear what he was doing. “He won’t be back for another hour.” She grinned, trying not to laugh.

                Ed watched Breda peek up over his desk’s barrier to see what was going on. “Don’t you have a train ride in an hour?”

                Ed laughed lightly as he tossed the chicken in the air, catching it with a swipe of his metal hand. “Yeah. I’m just on my way out.  I was hoping to see the bastard’s expression. But, I guess I can leave it here for him.” He looked up at the Lieutenant. “Will you tell him it’s from me?”

                He knew she knew what this was about. But she didn’t look at all like she regretted telling him the story. It was obvious a two-part job of this little joke. “Yes, Fullmetal. I will let him know it’s from you.”

                Ed jumped up, putting the toy chicken on the Colonel’s desk as if it needed to be placed precisely in a dedicated spot less chaos should erupt. Then he turned on his toe, putting his hands in his pockets, and whistled as he strolled out the door.

                 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda long huh. I liked it. I originally wrote it from Riza's POV, and really wrote him out to be a little punk, with many subtle notes of teens today. Then I realized that all the others were written from the other POV, so I redid it. I do think that Riza would know a little, just a little, about Alchemy. I just can't think that she was left in the dark about everything. Even if she didn't understand it, or wasn't taught by Roy or her father, she'd have access to his books. She'd know something, just not enough to make it work. Still really happy the way it came out. Hope that you all enjoy it too.


	21. The Goddess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayate and Hawkeye. 
> 
> Special thanks to Rando 29 who reminded me of the most important team member!

                Hayate had no name, no need for a name, and was lost and cold. He was lost when the young man saved him and brought him inside. He was toweled off, played with, snuggled, and kept warm. It was different than what he expected but embraced this new prospect. He didn’t understand the bickering or the crazy man who ran away from him and barked at him madly. He didn’t even understand it when he was passed along the room and inspected. But he was warm and dry, and the young man had given him some chicken from his lunch. He hoped that he’d never have to go out in the rain again.

                Then he met her. She picked him up and he was in love. She nuzzled him with her nose against his, petted him, and smiled at him. She was soft, and her tone was even and fair. But when he relieved himself, she was sharp to punish him. Threatening his life while showing him the way to redemption was a powerful tone she held. When she took him home, he was even more fearful that he’d do something else wrong. But his puppy curiosity led him to search the area and identify his new surroundings. He watched her, waiting for her sudden rage to set him on track. She didn’t stare at him coldly but watched him with amusement. He sniffed around, wagged his tail, and licked her foot. In exchange, she brought him food, and he was grateful.

                She provided him with shelter, a kennel in which he could sleep and feel safe. It was a generous gift. But he didn’t like being locked up in it alone. She put him in there at night while she slept, and he ached to be with her.

                “No Hayate,” she’d scold. And he’d put his head down. She never yelled at him. Never did she ever yell or make him feel as if he was in fear. She would just make him understand that she was disappointed in him, just by looking at him. He wanted to please her, to hear her call his name, the one that she’d given him. When she’d let him out, he’d wag his tail, run in circles, and pant happily at her. She’d rub between his ears and give him a treat once he sat down. It became a ritual. He wasn’t given any food or snacks until he sat. More treats would come, delicious little biscuits that tasted like the chicken the young man gave him. It happened more when another man, with black hair and dark eyes, would come over. He was much more of a gracious God. He was not so demanding of worship like the Goddess was. He’d give him a treat, rub his ears and tummy, and even play with him. Over time, so did she. But she made him work for it. This made him feel very accomplished and proud. He had a purpose to his life.

                He learned to walk beside her and not pull on the rope that attached itself to his neck and to her hand. When he’d pull, she’d say firmly. “No Hayate. No pulling.” Then she’d bring him back to her side and say, “Just like that. What a good boy.” When they were at the park, he’d chase the ball and she loved it the most when he’d bring it back. She’d rub his face with her hands as she told him how good he was before throwing it again. He loved it when she came home and he’d curl up next to her, and her hands would caress his side as she’d read her book. He found her most interesting when she’d read to him, not that he knew what any of it was about, but her voice was so soft and delicate that he wanted to hear more of it.

                He was eager to go everywhere with her if it was either to the store or to the office in which they first met. Even though there was the big man who would bark at him and run away, she protected him and kept him near. When she wasn’t looking, he’d sneak over to the dark-haired man with dark eyes, or the younger God who found him and get a treat. The younger God always was so affectionate, which was different from everyone else. Hayate loved him especially. Though the blonde man did not go out of his way to please or connect with Hayate, he wasn’t without a good pet. This was his pack, his family, and he loved them very much. Although he didn’t always get to go with them, he loved it when he did see them.

                He was still young when he started going on longer walks with his Goddess. Hayate and her, with the dark-haired man who he learned was named Colonel, were walking in a new area one afternoon. He was sniffing around, smelling for the source of a smell. He had been playing hide and seek with the younger God and was learning that he was very good at finding people. The Goddess had given him a shirt and asked him to find someone. It was different because it was not the young God, but he thought it might be the same concept. So, he sniffed. There were so many smells, but her gentle and reassuring tone gave him confidence that he could do it. He could find this man who was hiding. He’d look back at her, with her golden hair and determined eyes, he knew she was relying on him.

                He came to a door and looked back at her again. He was certain that the smell was coming from within. “Maybe he should stay out there,” Colonel said softly. It wasn’t what Hayate wanted to hear. He was scared if he was in a foreign area without her. But he would stay if that’s what she wanted.

                “No,” she argued. He will stay right by me. I don’t want anything to happen to him.” Hayate smiled and wagged his tail as she looked down at him. “Be quiet, Hataye.” She pulled her funny smelling metal rock from her pocket and pointed it into the doorway as Colonel opened the door. He stayed right by her side as they started looking through each room. He could feel the seriousness of the area. Both her and Colonel were tense and quiet as they swiftly looked around. So, he started to look around too. He could hear talking as they entered an area with large boxes. He stopped, whining softly in hopes to tell her what he was hearing. They were looking for something. Maybe that’s what she wanted. Just as he hoped, she stopped and looked down at him. He pointed back to the way of the sound and whined again. “Good boy,” she whispered with a smile.

                Then they went in that direction. “Lieutenant,” Colonel whispered. That is what Hayate learned what he called her. “You go to the right, I’m going to go left.”

                She nodded and turned with Hayate to follow his orders. Hayate didn’t consider him her alpha, or his. They seemed to work on similar levels. After all, she told him what to do on several occasions. As they got closer, he sensed evil. His Goddess grew more and more anxious and tense as they neared. But Hayate admired her as his alpha. She was never afraid, fearless and dominate in everything she did. And because of this, he was willing to follow her to these evil creatures. They were hiding behind a large wooden box as she looked around. She turned to him and put her hand up, telling him to stay. He sat down and looked ahead, waiting for her next command. She continued to look around, growing frustrated. Then turning to go nearer to the men. She didn’t tell him to follow, so he waited.          

He looked and listened for her. He could hear to footsteps, could smell her nearby, but he couldn’t see her. In no measured time, he heard yelling and running. He looked in the direction of the stampede, but it was out of view. He could hear the dark-haired man yelling, and the chaos of the situation made Hayate very nervous. He couldn’t hear his Goddess. He heard a small explosion, then another, in the direction of _her_. He whined and looked around again. He inched forward, listening and smelling. That’s when he noticed it. He could sense her in danger. He could smell her sweat, smell her anxiety. He could hear her breathing escalated, and he thought that he could hear thuds of connection between bodies. They reminded him of when she was doing tactical training with other parts of the pack. But they were not training. The energy wasn’t the same. Then he heard a specific sound that made his hair on his neck stand up and an involuntary growl grow from his chest. He heard her gasp, and groan. Someone was hurting her! 

                Hayate sprang from his spot. He didn’t have time to worry about her being mad about him not staying. He needed to protect his Goddess! He ran around the boxes to see her and a larger man wrestling. He barked at the two and heard the black-haired man yell. He barked again. He was small, still young, and the man was big. But he had to protect her. He lunged at the man, grabbing him angrily on the ankle, biting as hard as he could. The man screamed out a horrific screech and reached down to grab at him! But he jumped out of the way. He lunged forward again, biting the other ankle. This time, a foot swung back and connected solidly with his body. He coughed as he rolled across the room. 

                “Black Hayate,” she yelled. 

                Hayate shook his head, as he jumped back up. His shoulder really hurt, but the man grabbed the Goddess and threw her easily across the room before reaching for the smelly metal boom rock. Hayate jumped at him again. He growled, even if it was not as menacing as he would have liked, it still made the man seem scared. “Stupid dog,” the man yelled. Hayate paid him no attention as he bit the man’s ankle again. He could taste blood as he held on. The man swung his foot again, but Hayate had learned and avoided it easily. He didn’t see the man reach for the boom rock again as he was avoiding the other foot. All he heard was the man yell at him again before there was a serious bang. Hayate flinched at the first one, but on the second he jumped away. He looked up to see the man fall, screaming out again. His Goddess stood over him with her own boom rock in hand. 

                The Colonel God arrived just in time to see her yelling at the bad man. “You ever point a gun at my dog again,” she yelled. “I won’t wound you next time.”

                Hayate tilted his head to the side. Was she angry? He’d never seen her this angry before. It was more than the disappointing expression or the firm voice that she used to correct him and guide him into appropriate behavior. This time she was mad! But it wasn’t at him. This bad man must have really made her angry. 

                “Well done,” Colonel said happily as he knelt down beside him. He scratched his ear as he continued to praise him. “You saved her! What a hero!” 

                A hero? He was a hero? Hayate wagged his tail excitedly. He had done what he was supposed to do! He turned to his blonde master and smiled. “You’re such a good boy, Hayate. You are such a good boy.” Her tone was happy now, rewardng, to say the least, and he barked happily at her. He saw her turn back to the man and her tone changed. “I should let him chew on you a bit longer.” 

                “Now now,” Colonel laughed. “We don’t want to spoil your faithful canine.” 

                When the day was over, they returned back to her home. He sat down as she pulled a treat from the jar, just as he was supposed to. She sat on the floor, pulling him into a hug. He nuzzled against him as she praised him, talking sweetly to him as he liked. He leaned into her, rubbing his face on her neck, rubbing her scent on himself. He loved her. She scratched him all over, petting him roughly as she praised him. The black-haired man soon arrived and he also was very rewarding to the dog. He roughly petted his head between his ears as he called Hayate all sorts of praises. He watched as the two hugged, and Colonel looked over her bruises and marks. Hayate could see that the Colonel cared for the Goddess too. She must be very important, he concluded. The two of them went into the bedroom, Hayate following closely. They both got on the bed, cuddling closely. He curled up in his own bed, listening to them talking and whispering. He smelled happy smells, smells of her, and of comfort. 

                “Hayate,” she called gently. He lifted his head, easily moving to her side of the bed. She patted the bed. “Up,” she commanded. He wasn’t sure at first. He wasn’t allowed on the bed. But he obliged her wishes. The God and Goddess pulled him between them as they petted him and closed their eyes to sleep. He felt protected, between them. He was with family, with his pack, just as it always should be. He now had a purpose, was fed, warm and he was happy. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last and final chapter of Hawkeye and the group. I almost have to say it was one of my more enjoyable ones to write. I know it's simply worded, not too descriptive, and more of... a simple writing style. But, it is from a dog's point of view. I wasn't going to do Roy... because... well... Royai... soooo. I hope that you liked this fun little project. Now... onto my next one!
> 
> Thank you for being a reader!   
> Let me know how you liked it!


	22. As the Sun Sets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Sexual activities are mentioned.   
> Ed and Winry enjoy a short moment after sexy time.

                The house was quiet, besides the heavy breaths that fell into a rhythm. The room felt hot to their wet skins, sweat dripping off his sides and onto her. He hovered over her, kissing her between breaths, laughing through the heaves of his lungs, deprived of its need for air. Their foreheads met, sticking with the perspiration, their eyes closing. Her hands slipped from his back to his sides, then to his chest, as she felt the toned muscles. She could feel under her fingers the heavy beats of his heart slow to a normal pace. He didn’t collapse onto her, just hovered, allowing the air to flow between their bodies somewhat drying them, or in attempts to dry them. But they remained connected. His hips against hers, though her legs had fallen from their strained position around him. And every so softly, they giggled, laughed with pleasure of each other.

                And it seemed too short, and too long, till he rolled to the side, falling on the mattress next to her. He looked up at the ceiling, not willing to move. He could feel her body twitch and her adjusting her limbs for the intense contractions as a result of the powerful orgasm. Her hand rested easily on his chest as she rolled over. Ed slipped his arm under her head as he turned to meet her. The red light of the sunset filtered over them with the night coming fast. The night was unavoidable. Neither wanted to move to turn on the bedroom light, nor a lamp. They’d much prefer to stay where they were. Their bodies connected again, facing each other on the side as he kissed her forehead. Her hands and arms were tucked between them, his around her protectively. It was a position both of them enjoyed.

                “How does this happen,” she gasped one last time.

                “I’m blaming you.” He chuckled.

                “You started it,” she snickered, kissing his chest, just below his scars. “You got too good at kissing.”

                “I wouldn’t have kissed you if you didn’t look so beautiful.”

                They giggled again. Ed looked up to see the sun slipping below the flowing hills, saying goodnight to the green fields. He smelled her, taking a deep breath over her hair before kissing her head again.

                “You know,” she whispered and yawned. “If this continues, we’re going to have a whole house full of children.”

                “That doesn’t scare me,” he yawned also. “I’m amazing at changing diapers.”

                She hummed, losing her consciousness. He heard her snore lightly as her weight began to drop against his. He tightened his hold on her as he watched the room grow dark, listening to the house fall into a sleep. It wouldn’t be long till his son woke them. He usually woke them up at this time to feed. Edward started to wonder how he could let Winry sleep, but he was unable to produce the nutrients that Winry could. He laughed instantly at himself with that thought. In this moment, however, he’d let her sleep. He closed his eyes and yawned once more. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's short. Hope it at least hold you over until the next one... you know.. like that snack your mom would give you while you were whining that you were hungry before dinner. 
> 
> Thank you for being a reader. It means so much that you take the time to click and read.


	23. Tunnels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Ed get stuck in a Tunnel after going after a fugitive. Roy ends up having to console Ed after some deaths that Ed feels responsible for.

                He looked down at the boy. He had his knees to his chest, his face in his knees. He thought he could hear sobs, but he was unsure. It was a tough week, especially for a 14-year-old. There were tough things that adults had seen, let alone a 14-year old. But what was done was done. Now, Roy was left with Ed, alone, watching the boy grieve over his lack of control in a horrible situation. Roy didn’t really know how to handle it either. So, it seemed that both of them were feeling useless, with Roy feeling awkward too. He looked around, looking for any other officer, even a private, to relieve him of his watch. Alas, there was no one. He had sent them all away. This was self-inflicted daycare.

                The hallways were dark and musky, even a bit humid. It wasn’t anyone’s favorite place to be. If Roy was superstitious, he’d say it was haunted looking. There were cracks up the wall, a light flickered to their right, and a far-off drip of water from one of the rusty pipes that loomed above. But Roy was not superstitious. Roy was rational, as was Edward. And yet, they both seemed suspended in this position of neither one wanting the other nearby, but there was no one else so they had to deal with it.

                Roy looked back down the hall and listened for footsteps, almost straining to hear what wasn’t there. He should have left Riza in his stead. She was always comforting the boys, and she was far more of a parental role than he could be. Even Heymans Breda was better with Ed and Al than he was. Again, this was his own fault. He mostly wanted to stay behind to look for stragglers, for survivors. It seemed that it was just those two.

                He looked down as he heard some muttering from the scrawny knees.

                “What did you say, Fullmetal?” Did he actually care? He could strike up a conversation with him, at least make it less uncomfortable. Or maybe it’d make it more uncomfortable… They were stuck there till someone came and got them. He was wet from the water they had to trudge through so it wasn’t even like he could use his ignition gloves. They didn’t have anything till Hawkeye returned and opened the door.

                “I’m tired of not being able to save anyone.”

                Roy felt a bit of a tug on his heart when he heard it. It was a common feeling that he battled with also. And now he was even more useless with his gloves wet. He didn’t comfort Ed though. He just stood there, leaning against the wall and looking down the hall. Thing was, Roy was not used to comforting. Since joining the military, he was placed in a competition of life and death, eat or be eaten, and succeed or… not. There weren’t hugs, pity-parties, or group sessions for feelings. They just expected you to get over it and do your job. He had to condition himself to that role. However, as a child, feeling abandoned by his parents, gave him a yearning of his own to belong. Maybe he and Ed did share that. Where his aunt cared for him, Edward had Pinako. They both even seemed to use alchemy as an escape from the world and it turned out to be their calling. _Heh, maybe we aren’t so different_.

                “It seems that everything I touch… I just can’t do anything right.” Ed lifted his head, placing his chin on his knees now. “I was supposed to help…” His voice drifted down the halls, echoing into the abandoned tunnels.

                Roy frowned. Again, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell Ed to get up, brush it off, and grow up. But he also didn’t. He thought back to what he wanted. When he needed some support, what did his aunt do? She and the girls were always there to pick him up, even if his aunt was a little more demanding of him.

                “You’re fine,” he muttered quietly.

                Ed looked up at Roy who had his chin tucked into his chest, hands in his pocket and leaning against the wall. His uniform was dirty, and he was still wet.

                “You think that it only happens to you?”

                Ed grumped. Obviously, that wasn’t the correct response. Roy held in a growl as he watched Edward put his golden eyes back into his legs, hiding his face. He wanted to grab him, pick him up, shake him… Oh if Hawkeye saw him do that! Instead, he fell along the wall next to him and pulled his own knees up to his chest. Now they really were just like each other, sitting in a mirrored state, drowning in their own wallowed sorrows of uselessness.

                “I know,” he whispered. “I know all too well.”

                “What do you know,” Ed snapped. “You have no idea! All this is my fault!”

                That wasn’t really true. They were in the tunnels looking for a fugitive. Ed was there to help. The dead soldiers had nothing to do with him. It was more of Roy’s if anyone had to take credit for it. Roy was the one that ordered them down here in the first place. “It’s not though,” Roy answered, trying to sound gentle. He had to consciously think about his tone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sincere but still annoyed that he now had the sole responsibility of consoling the youngest state alchemist. “I’m the one that ordered them here. You just tagged along.”

                “I started the explosion,” Ed began to sob. “I was the one that blew the steam pipe and killed them.”

                Roy nodded silently, staring at the grey wall in front of them. He looked at the large crack that grew towards the ceiling, resembling much like an ancient river.

                “I’m supposed to save lives.” Another sob followed by a sniffle.

                “If anything, you saved more lives…”

                Ed pulled his head from his legs angerly and glared at his superior. “Are you saying that you accept the sacrifice of those men in order to save your own?”

                Roy shook his head slowly, not emotionally giving into Ed’s sudden burst towards him. Normally he’d put Ed in his place, but no one had to see this. No one had to know that Roy was putting his ego away for a moment. “No.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I never want any of that. But you didn’t murder them. It wasn’t intentional.”

                Ed continued to glare. Roy looked down at him, seeing that he was mulling over the sentence.

                “Anyone can die at any time. I think after being in the military, it’s easier to accept the death of your soldiers.” He shrugged. “Maybe it makes you numb.”

                Ed continued to stare, but now it wasn’t anger. Ed squinted his eyes, now wondering exactly what Colonel Mustang was telling him.

                “I hate having to write letters to their loved ones. That feeling, that kind of personal sadness, never goes away.” Roy let his head fall back onto the wall, now looking at the same crack above him. “I have to tell moms and wives that their son or husband died valiantly, heroically, and was steadfast in his sacrifice for the Amestrian Government. That their sacrifice to the country was not in vain… I never enjoy that.” It was indeed the hardest part about days like these. “Once I know I have to write one of those,” he chuckled sarcastically, “I get the whiskey out. Sometimes, I make Breda write them, and I’ll just sign them…”

                “That’s cruel,” Ed snorted.

                “Probably.” He grinned looking down at the boy. “I never want to write yours.” It was a whisper, a small admittance of admiration towards Edward. He wondered when the last time Ed had someone actually appreciate him.

                Ed didn’t respond. If it wasn’t uncomfortable then, it certainly was now. They sat in the silence for a few minutes, listening to the water drip away, straining to hear for any other sign of life in the halls.

                “Sometimes,” Roy looked down the dark hallway. “I have to take a moment to myself and de-stress.”

                “What do you mean?”

                He shrugged. “I’m useless too, you know.” He pulled the ignition gloves from his pocket. “I could have saved those men too, but I jumped into the water to get you. My gloves were in my pocket.”

                Ed suddenly felt guiltier as he rubbed his face. “It really is my fault!”

                Roy just nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey.”

                Ed didn’t respond as he sighed heavily into his palms.

                “It’s not. There were so many times that we could have saved them. None of them were in our favor. And I don’t get to save everyone either.” Roy put the gloves back in his pocket. “I’m a strong and powerful alchemist, and mostly useless…”

                Ed still refused to move.

                “So, I have to sit and think about what I can do next time so that this doesn’t happen again.”

                Ed lowered his hands. “You don’t think there was anything we could have saved them?”

                Roy shook his head. “If it wasn’t them, it’d be someone else. He could have attacked us elsewhere. The possibilities are endless.”

                “So,” the young alchemist rubbed his eyes. “We just have to accept this?”

                Roy took in a deep breath, sighing heavily through his nose. “Yes, Edward. We do.”

                There was more silence. A longer silence. A meditating silence. There were many drips of water, many cracks to follow in the wall. They could feel their hearts beat in their chests and hear it in their ears. Roy still didn’t want to be there. He still wanted someone else to explain this to Ed. He wasn’t doing a good enough job. He was just lecturing him like he always did. This time there just wasn’t any yelling, arguing, or orders. It was just them, in the dark halls, under Eastern Command somewhere. What there was time for was sleep, and when Roy realized this, he leaned his head against the wall, crossed his arms, crossed his ankles, and closed his eyes.

                “Can I ask you something?”

                “Hmm?” Roy didn’t move from his position.

                There was a short pause and he hoped that Ed had forgotten his question. “Why flame alchemy?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “I mean…” Ed gulped. Roy could hear the nervousness in his voice. Poor kid was trying to make small talk. Maybe the emptiness of the hall was getting to him too. “There are no other flame alchemists. Why did you become one?”

                Roy didn’t answer at first. The question brought up a lot in his own mind. He wondered what to tell him. Should he tell it all? Does he mention Hawkeye’s tattoo? Or that her father was his teacher, or that her grandfather is Grumman? Does he tell Ed that there are no others because she won’t allow it? Does he tell him that the technique dies with him?

                “There’s nothing on it,” Ed confessed. “I looked. There’s not one book on it.” He heard Ed scratch his head. “I thought with all your research, you’d write your own book or journal or something… You’re a Colonel, you have this experience and knowledge, but you haven’t published anything on it.”

                “It’s not something that needs to be shared.” It was a good enough answer. Plain. To the point. Edward didn’t need to know anything else.

                “Are you going to tell me that it’s dangerous in the wrong hands?” Ed’s voice was thick with mocking sarcasm.

                “The hero if Ishval was the destroyer of Ishval. Power does awful things to you. The flame alchemy wasn’t in my hands, it was in the government’s. Anyone so selfish, so willing to destroy for their own gratification and strength, doesn’t deserve the power to begin with.”

                “Yeah,” Ed responded quickly. “I thought you’d say something like that. Get to be all serious and stoic. Got to keep looking like you know everything.”

                There was the Fullmetal Alchemist that he knew and loved. He let a smile creep in the corner of his mouth, but on the side Ed wasn’t sitting on. The quiet seeped in again. Roy’s breathing became rhythmic, his ears straining to hear anything, as he let his mind go blank. It was easy for him to sleep, especially when he had a chance. The dreams were not always pleasant, so if he could get any sleep, he’d hope that it was dark and empty like these halls.

                He didn’t know how long passed. He thought at one point that Edward had gotten up and moved around. He heard some pebbles skip across the ground, a splash of a puddle. Then a body fall against the wall and rub against him coincidently. He could hear Ed playing with his shirt, tinkering with his arm, clicking his pocket watch open and closed, open and closed.  Then, there was a sound that he had waited to hear. He lifted his head before Ed even reacted to it.

                “Mustang?”

                “We’re in here.”

                “Havoc says he’s sorry for closing the door.”

                Roy grinned. “Tell him he's fired.”

                “You’re so funny, Colonel.”

                There were some clanking sounds, the lock being forced open before the door opened with a heavy whine.

                “Thank God!” Ed jumped to his feet and dusted himself off. “Never leave me with this guy again,” he said looking at Havoc and tossing his thumb over his shoulder at Mustang. “He’s such a baby when he gets wet.”

                A couple of chuckles from the group of enlisted men behind Havoc and Hawkeye filled the hallway as Ed shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled out. Roy stopped at Hawkeye and Havoc, watching the protégé continue down the hall to the stairs.

                “What did you say to him?” Havoc pulled the cigarette from his lips.

                Roy shrugged. “We mostly slept. Wasn’t much to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ed. See, Roy isn't that bad of a guy after all. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	24. Stroll through the park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maes and his daughter are sitting in the park, enjoying the sun. It seems that a familiar lieutenant walks by and says hi.

               He sat arms apart and resting on the back of the bench, slouched even, and his legs crossed. His glasses sat high near his face as he watched the children in the play area. It was a better park than others in the area. A rope ladder, swing set… as his daughter enjoyed it. So as small as she was, she as active enough. There was meaning behind the terrible twos. But she was still very little, and she never wandered far. She was independent, adventurous, and caring. So caring that he'd see her pick other toddlers up and kiss their boo-boo. It was just too adorable, even by his standards. Her favorite was the slide, which she continued to insist she didn't need help. And after a few minutes, Maes Hughes sat on the bench and watched her bounce from one area to the next. With the warm sun, he was tempted to take a nap. Maybe after Elyssia had drained herself, they would find some cool shade and nap. 

               “Didn't expect to see you here.”

               Maes turned his head to see a smiling blonde next to him. Her hair was down, instead of up as it was at work, and her face was bright and relaxed. It was always a joy to see her, but they rarely, maybe once or twice, run into each other here. “Hey,” he nodded back. He moved his arm down and encouraged her to sit. 

               Riza nodded, sitting down. Her puppy sat at her feet, instantly interested in the children. “Boy, she's getting big.”

               He nodded. “Growing up too fast. You never believe it till you have one of your own.” Maes looked at Riza with a certain fondness. He smiled crookedly, softly at the corners. “Don't you want your own?”

               Riza frowned as she pondered quietly. He watched her eyes track the children as they ran in the sand. “I suppose society and life dictates that we have children,” she acknowledged. “And maybe one day it will be nice. I have thought about it.” He saw her smile for a mere second before her eyes grew cold for another second. “But we both know I don't deserve one.” 

               Maes chuckled, his attempt to lighten the mood. “Maybe I don't either… but she will be my redemption of my own sins.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw she smiled. She leans down, petting the dog between her legs. “How long are you Central for then?”

               Riza leaned back. “Only two more days. I think Colonel has already overstayed his welcome.” 

               The two snickered. A cloud covered the sun and they park felt a mild reprieve from its heat. His daughter, with her bouncy pigtails and adorable yellow dress with red spots, came running up to her father. He handed her a water bottle, which she leaned upward, slipping some on her as she drank quickly. She didn't have time, clearly wanting to return to the playground. The two adults didn't say anything, but both admired the girl. She was innocent, beautiful in her childish age of carefree thoughts. Elyssia turned to Riza. “Hello, Ms. Hawkeye,” she said quickly. “Can your puppy come play?” 

               Riza unclipped Hayates leash and Elyssia instantly called for the puppy to follow. They bounced off, into the playground. “I was thinking of getting her a puppy,” Maes admitted. “Gracia would be the main caregiver though. She does have a lot on her plate.” 

               “You do need time for them,” she agreed. “I'm sure Elyssia would take it everywhere.”

               He snickered. “Yeah, I’m sure she would.” 

               It was never odd between them. The only thing that truly connected them was Roy, and the fact that they could both agree he was a pain in the ass. If anything, he admired her for being so strong and persistent. While they were both Roy’s friends, he considered her a good friend of himself as well. And when he was busy, or away, he could count on Riza Hawkeye to take care of his family. That was the type of person she was, and that meant a lot to him. 

               “Maybe get her something small. Not something big. Black Hayate is a good size.” 

               She broke him from his thoughts as he looked back at Riza. “Do you have a particular breed in mind?”

               Riza laughed and smiled. “No. Just find one that looks like her.” 

               Maes flashed a mischievous smile. “Yeah? Because it looks like you got one that looks like Roy.”

               She shoved her shoulder into his and they chuckled. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to say it the other way around.” They continued to chuckle. 

               Elyssia had found a stick, playing tug-o-war with the small black and white puppy. She laughed while the puppy made a weak attempt at a growl before getting the stick from her. Then the entire crowd of children seemed to chase Black Hayate from one end of the playground to the next. To any other dog, having several toddlers chasing it would have been intimidating, but Hayate looked back at the children with a smirk, letting them get close before sprinting away. 

               Silence for Maes and Riza was fine. They were content watching their “children” run wild and get worn out on their own. The sun, and the birds and the waving flowers in the breeze were calming. It was nice to take a moment to appreciate the moment while it was calm. 

               “I better get going,” she stood up. The signal was when Hayate fell in the grass, panting happily at his own mother. “He’s going to need his nap time soon,” she joked. 

               Elyssia fell next to him, petting his head gently. “Yeah,” Maes nodded standing up too. “Elyssia, let's go!” He turned to Riza as she whistled for her dog. “There’s an opera tomorrow. At seven. Gracia loves to go. Would you like to join us?”

               Riza nodded and leaned down to leash her exhausted dog. “I haven’t been since after the war,” she admitted. “I think that will be nice.” She patted his head and stood back up. “Maybe I can drag the Colonel along.” 

               Maes laughed loudly, turning back to his daughter who hadn’t moved. “We all know how much he loves the opera.” 

               “The Colonel and I will meet you there tomorrow at seven. Thank you for the invite. That was very nice of you.” 

               Maes leaned down, picking up his jacket. “Thank you for the wonderful company. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” It was a formality that both of them knew wasn’t needed. But they smiled just the same. She waved as she turned to walk in the other direction. “And make sure he combs his hair,” he called to her. 

               Maes then turned to his daughter in the grass. He walked calmly over to her, looking down at her. “What are you doing?”

               “I’m looking at the clouds.” Her toddler hands pointed up at a cloud floating by. 

               “Well,” Hughes laughed as he picked her up by her hands and pulled her up. He allowed her to wiggle and laugh as he tickled her sides, putting her on his shoulders. “I’m sure Mommy is awake from her nap, and has a delicious snack for us!” 

               “Go faster, Daddy!” 

               “Only if you make the cho-cho sounds,” he laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling that Hayate came after Hughe's death... But it's a cute story. My husband was rather upset that I didn't consider Hughes part of the Mustang Clan and didn't initially write one for him and Riza. Oops. And I know it's mostly dialong, and not too much detail like the others, but it's short and fun. Hope you enjoyed it.


	25. Like Father, Like Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and his firstborn are quite alike.

                When Ed found out he was going to be a father, he decided several things. First off, he was not going to be like his father. The thought of ‘abandoning’ his family was not an option. There was always knowledge to be sought, and conclusions to draw up, but he didn’t want to miss a moment of his child’s life. Not their first steps, their first swimming lesson, and not their first alchemic creation, which he knew Alphonse was also excited about. Also like his father, he would not be distant, or hesitant about loving and touching his children. He made the constant joke of taking the child everywhere holding him under his arm until he noticed how small and fragile he was in Ed’s hands. He’d also be like a certain friend. As annoying and persistent Maes Hughes was, Ed could now understand his enthusiasm and passion for his family. He would show everyone his child’s picture. He’d shove it in everyone’s faces, praise his wife’s beauty, and brag about how perfect his child was. The night his son was born he had a picture already ready the next day, and at four in the morning he was banging his fist on Mustang’s door. He was going to make trips into Central, or Eastern Command, just to wave a new picture at Mustang.

                A new child was a change in lifestyle, no doubt. Though his brother and Mei were visiting, the house was chaotic with sounds, chores, and obligations. It seemed that Ed only let his son go to feed or sleep. But that wasn’t the case. He and Al hadn’t seen each other in a few years, and they were happy to catch up on theories and stories. After a few weeks, the house settled, and everyone seemed to dissipate for a moment. Winry, who Ed didn’t think he could ever love more, was taking a well-deserved nap. She did deserve it. Ed couldn’t have imagined a better mother. But, the attention to their firstborn was relentless and Ed forced her to rest. His son had other plans and stayed awake.

                He was fussy, always fussy. Ed blamed himself for being so stubborn. He took him downstairs and laid him on his back on a thick blanket. Laying by his side, his large hand engulfed the infant’s torso. It never seemed real how small babies were. And he was going to grow up to be an adult like Ed. It was truly a miracle, and very _awesome_. Ed let his fingers pet his chest as his son’s head tossed from side to side, making quiet cries. His tiny fingers wrapped around Ed’s larger finger, tightening his little grip as his nose wrinkled.

                “What are you crying about,” Ed asked quietly, whispering gently. “You shouldn’t be hungry or uncomfortable,” he deducted as his son’s other arm waved with no purpose. “I just changed you…” Ed’s free hand, the arm he was resting on as he looked over his pride and joy, brushed the thin golden hair on his head. “You’re just fighting sleep,” he concluded. His son wrinkled his nose again with a gurgling sound earning a frown from Ed. “Poor guy.”

                Edward freed his hand, gently pulling his son up and rolling over onto his back. He placed his son on his chest, making sure to position the head comfortably, his tiny hands grasping his shirt. His hand gently rubbed his back, back and forth, ever gently. He was sure that he could hear his father’s heart, beating strong and steady just for him. Everything that Ed ever survived, ever endured, sacrificed, and fought… it was all worth this moment now. After a few minutes, he heard a gentle, almost non-existent snoring and felt a drool puddle on his chest… or he hoped it was drool. He reached out the grab an extra throw that was on the floor, stuffed it under his head so that he was more comfortable, and closed his own eyes. His spare arm remained behind his head, helping prop it up, while his other hand rested easily on his son. He was sure he’d wake when his son did, or when Al and Mae returned. He certainly would wake with his beautiful wife’s steps down the stairs. Ed wouldn’t turn down a few minutes of quiet to himself.

                Alphonse opened the door first, taking instant notice to how quiet it was. He turned to Mei, indicating for her to be quiet. “They must be napping,” he whispered.

                “Oh good,” she smiled. “I’m going to go start lunch.”

                Al nodded as he went into the living room. He stopped in the doorway as he saw the two golden-haired figures on the floor. Suddenly, Alphonse was jealous of his brother, something that didn’t happen too often. Ed had a slip of drool coming out his mouth as he snored lightly, the same drool and snore coming from his son. Mei touched his back as she looked into the room with a smile. “I think I want kids,” he whispered to her. He felt Mei's fingers rub his back as her lips pressed against his shoulder before returning back to the kitchen without a word.

                Before too long, she returned with the camera, handing it to Al. “Here,” she offered it. “I’m sure he’d love to have this moment forever.”

                Al raised the camera with a quick click and grinned. “Like father, like son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know... short. But sweet.   
> Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think!


	26. Acting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed and family are going to see General Mustang on the train, and Ed realizes that his son being just like him isn't the best thing right now.

                It wasn’t really a special occasion, but it was a big enough trip that Edward expected his children to behave. The wild country monsters, full of smiles and laughs, were anxious and hyper on the train, running and bouncing from one end to the next. It was hard to contain them, to say the least. After arriving at East City, they ran around the train station with Dad in tow. Winry, who was holding her 3rd child in her arms, was too tired to even attempt at catching them. “We had three in case we lost one,” she joked to the officer on the deck. However, Ed was not having their deviance. And it wasn’t like they’d never been to East City before! They still had one more train ride to Central, and now Ed was thinking of leaving his kids in on the platform.

                “You can’t do that,” he scolded to his oldest. They were identical in every way, which was something that Winry loved, and dreaded on most days. Their hair, smile, laugh, and attitude, all were mirrored. “You have to hold your sister’s hand,” he continued to lecture. The child was still a bit young. Both parents knew that. But he was still the oldest and the only help they’d get in the upcoming years as the third grew up. “You have to protect her.”

                The boy pulled his hand from his sisters, folding his arms in front of his chest and pouted. “I don’t want to.”

                Ed ran his hand through his long bangs. “I don’t care if you want to, you need to. And some things you have to do because you need to.” His voice was gentle, trying not to explain the inherited role of the eldest child. 

                “This is stupid.”

                It took everything for Ed not to argue childishly back at his son. _No, you’re stupid!_ But he was the adult and a father of three. It was, no doubt, time for even him to grow up. Instead, he frowned and sighed as he continued in a gentle, level voice. “Yes, Son. It may be stupid. But do you really want anything to happen to your little sister?”

                The middle child sat crying in her summer dress. Tears flowed heavily down her cheeks as she also rebelled against the authority figures. No matter how Ed tried to console her, she ignored all his persuasions and wailed in the middle of the station. Winry and Ed could both conclude it was nap time, for both of them. They couldn’t wait till the next train so that they could give them some food and con them into a short nap. Ed reached down picking up this daughter and holding her close to his shoulder. He felt her body hack jerk as she wailed into his shoulder. “If you can’t hold onto her hand, then you have to hold onto mine.” Ed reached down with his other hand and looked tiredly upon his son. He begged for him to comply, to just come along with him this one time. Suddenly he realized how much of a little jerk he was a child and silently begged his mother in heaven to forgive him. 

                Again, his son stood firm, his lip protruding in a classic outrage against him. His yellow eyes challenged his father, determined to win. Ed was sure that he could have just told him to stay close, but the amount of people almost assured his son would get distracted. There was no argument to be had here. He groaned. “I’m not going to tell you again.” He rubbed his daughter’s back in an attempt to calm her, which was completely futile. He had one child who was in complete rebellion, one that he was sure that even Mustang could appreciate on some level, and the other was doing her best to make him deaf in the ear she was crying into. “I’m not appreciating your behavior, young man.”

                His son was, as all children do, entering a rebellious stage. One to test the limits of his surroundings. Ed particularly enjoyed watching his son learn more about the world, but this was more than learning. He was pushing his father's patience, time, and energy of everyone around him. And in this trip to see General Mustang, Ed could not have picked a worse time to endow more responsibility onto the 6-year-old. He could hear Mustang in his head, _Aw, he is just like you! Short and tempered_. Maybe he'd just leave his son with Mustang for the day since the military man had so much experience with Ed's own whiney butt. 

                “Honey,” Winry called. “The train is boarding.” She had passed them and was standing by a light waiting for the rest of her party to join her. She had the only reasonable child, the baby, sleeping seemingly happily against her breast. Ed was certain that by the time the two others were napping, that one would wake.

                “Coming,” he called back before squatting in front of his son. “I know you’re trying to be more independent.” He decided to try compromise before toting his son, who would no doubt respond in a wild monkey attack of some sort, under his arm after a slap on the rear. “But being independent means more when you can do what right without being told.”

                There was no difference in his facial expression.

               Ed reached out to brush some dirt off the child's shirt with a gentle swipe. “And we all have to do things that we don’t want to do.” His daughter was still crying loudly in his ear. “But, how about this. If you hold my hand to our seats, me and you can go get a snack. I think the dining car will have ice cream.”

                His son looked down at his feet, pondering the offer. Along with Ed's terrible attitude of his youth, his son had quite the intelligence. He was rational and thoughtful in all of his little decisions. 

                “Or,” Ed continued. “I can give you a swat on the bum and you will not move from your seat until we arrive in Central.”

                “I hate Central,” the child grumped back. He kicked a small stone as his arms folded over his chest again. 

                “Oh, trust me,” Ed laughed lightly. “I do too. But General Mustang needs daddy’s help. And although Daddy doesn’t always like General Mustang, I still have to do what is right and go help him.”

                “Edward!”

                “I’m coming!” He waved his hand above his head, trying not to respond with an attitude towards his tired and rushed wife. True fear was her getting after him for attitude. As far as his son was concerned, he was lucky in this instance.

                The boy looked over to his mother, and back to his father. His hands dropped to his sides in defeat and he grumped loudly. “It’s no fair.”

                “I don’t think so either.” He stuck his hand out for his son to hold. “Let’s go be miserable together.”

                His son reached out and took hold of his father’s hand and followed him to the train. “Can I have a window seat?”

                “Only if you behave.” Ed sighed heavily. He loved his children. He loved watching them grow, make decisions, and learn. And it was only now that he was starting to realize how much of a little shit he really was. Sitting on the train, putting his daughter down for a nap, he started to have more appreciation for Mustang and his patience for him. He was not exactly the best child, and it was a wonder to even him how Mustang didn’t lock him up just for being an ass. And yet, even now they were somewhat friends.

                “You’re a good father,” Winry whispered as she fed the youngest.

                “I hope so,” he yawned. “I guess we will find out when they learn Alchemy.”

                 He watched his wife smile, leaning back. “I’m fretting Al teaching them anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be one of the last short stories for a while. If there are any prompts or idea, let me know. You can always find me on Tumblr @snowdog49. I hope that you all have enjoyed them. I do hope to get back to them at some point. We will see.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!


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